<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Becoming a War Criminal and Other Stories From 9th Grade by emcon</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24889003">Becoming a War Criminal and Other Stories From 9th Grade</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/emcon/pseuds/emcon'>emcon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Most Fantastic Chronicles of Willow Wren [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Part 2, Sort Of, and the usual, fuck hydra all my homies hate hydra, i still make my own rules, this will be in Civil War territory</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:07:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>25,447</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24889003</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/emcon/pseuds/emcon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Willow Wren has survived HYDRA twice, brainwashing (three times?), and the death of her best friend. The last two years could've gone better.</p><p>After being rescued by S.H.I.E.L.D., Willow is now living at the New Avengers Facility, trying to get her life back together and learn how to control her powers. And though she's starting to get her old life back, there's still a lot she's put on hold back in NYC and in the outside world. When the reality of the Accords closes in, Willow is forced to make tough decisions, and finally answer the question "what do you really want?"</p><p>Our (okay, maybe just *my*) favorite bat-winged, superhearing-having, airbending(?), disaster is back. </p><p>crossposting at aka-willow.tumblr.com</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Most Fantastic Chronicles of Willow Wren [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1800964</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A Recap</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>&gt;&gt;show edits</em>
</p><p>
  <em>&gt;&gt;draft 1/1</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Subject: Oops</strong>
</p><p>Hey Peter, Ned</p><p>I guess I wasn't truthful about some things. Or, that said, a lot of things.</p><p>To start, you both met me only a few months after I escaped a HYDRA lab in Boston. And if that sounds wild to you, strap on in, because that's just the setup to the world's worst fucking joke. (It's me, if you couldn't tell. I'm the joke.) That winter was pretty weird, I met a guy who could control minds or whatever<strike> and saw him die in April. Probably should've gone to therapy. But</strike> it sent me on this path of trying to figure out where *I* came from, because the whole mind-control thing was really starting to mess with me, and I had a ton of missing memories from my childhood at that lab.</p><p>Remember how I said I was going to (I can't even remember the excuse I gave at this point) but I said I was going to Boston. I found the old lab and made contact with the eleven other kids I grew up with there. We had a little party,<strike> burned the place down</strike>, I made a pit stop in DC, and when all was said and done, I knew three things:</p>
<ol>
<li>Yeah, we were definitely brainwashed. And I didn't know how much.</li>
<li>We had another sibling who might still be alive. We called her Zero.</li>
<li>We had the names of the Facility staff.</li>
</ol><p>Basically, we started tracking down the staff, I mostly took on the ones in the NYC area. We would expose them, get them arrested (finally). I <strike>confronted a few of them and</strike> tried to get more information on where the ringleader of the whole operation was (SWSNBN) and anything else of use.</p><p>That's where I think I started to lose control. When Marty died, I found out that he had been trying to investigate the Facility for me. Marty was killed by a HYDRA operative. He didn't find much, but he found out that my siblings and I were being used as weapons for HYDRA. <strike>Hurt people, lots of them, and then our memories were wiped after.</strike> That's why we didn't remember anything, and that's what the brainwashing was for. And after learning all that, I really kind of went AWOL. I'm sorry about that, and sorry I guess for being a shitty friend.</p><p>SHIELD came for me (can anyone be surprised) and after a detour to upstate NY, the midwest, CO, and eventually NM <strike>and *another* HYDRA base</strike>, I ended up with SHIELD again. I can't really say much else about what's going on now or where I am (pretty sure they won't let me) but you two deserve to know the truth. I don't know when I'll be coming back to school (I think <strike>Natasha is</strike> they're having me do it online for now) but hopefully I can see you guys again soon. For now, make sure cool rumors get spread about me because there are enough bad ones already going around.</p><p>Again, I'm sorry. For real. <strike>I wish I could go back and change it, but I can't.</strike></p><p>
  <strike>I'm too much of a pussy to send this, so this will probably stay in my drafts for now. I know, I suck.</strike>
</p><p><strike>Your friend,</strike> Your friend(?)</p><p>Willow</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Tomorrow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Willow arrives at the New Avengers Facility</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <ul>
<li>
<b>Words: </b>1370</li>
<li>
<b>Characters: </b>Willow Wren, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff</li>
<li>
<b>Timeline: </b>March 2016</li>
<li>
<b>Song: </b><a href="https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DQDYfEBY9NM4&amp;t=NmM2NWI0NjI5YTgxYWNjZjJjMDJlYTQwOTIyNGRlMGM4YTIxYzgzOSxRTVVBS01Wbg%3D%3D&amp;b=t%3Ah330fsP_66fAsgU472BqWw&amp;p=https%3A%2F%2Femcon-ocs.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F622233918510350336%2Ftomorrow&amp;m=1">Let It Be - The Beatles</a>
</li>
<li>
<b>A/N: </b><em>And we’re back! </em>
</li>
</ul><p>—————————————————————————–</p><p>The flight to the Avenger’s Compound was quick, and before I knew it, we were landing, just as the sun was setting behind the trees that lined the property. The whole placed glowed, lights flanked the outside of the facility and inside, through the massive glass windows, I saw figures moving around inside.</p><p>“Here we are,” Natasha said as the jet’s engine quieted. I waited in my seat, still unsure about the whole thing, trying to wrap my head around what was happening. <em>There’s no way they know about everything I did. I shouldn’t be here. I don’t belong here. </em>“Ready to go?” she asked.</p><p>“Uh… yeah…” I said, picking up my backpack and standing, stretching my legs. Nedward and Boxer Joe chirped and squeaked to themselves in their cage and I bent down and stuck my index finger through to pet them.</p><p>“Want a hand with them?” Wanda asked, standing behind me.</p><p>I shook my head and unlatched their cage from the floor. <em>I can do it myself.</em></p><p>It was all so weird, <em>I </em>felt so weird, so out of place surrounded by the same heroes who, before this, I weren’t even sure were real. I had seen them on TV, on the news, in Sokovia, clips of the Congressional hearings, but now that I was here, among them, I didn’t know how to react to any of it. <em>Maybe this is all a dream. What if I’m still at the lab? What if I never left the Facility? Who knows how much they messed with my head… and what if—</em></p><p>“Willow?” Wanda asked, cutting through my thoughts. The jet’s gangplank had lowered, and cool air blew in. “Ready?”</p><p>I picked up the cage and followed her and Natasha towards the compound, feeling self-conscious, almost sick with it, wishing I could bolt now and take to the sky. Run away again. Anywhere.</p><p>We cut across the grassy landscape and entered through a door on the side. It was so quiet compared to New York City, or even any of the labs. The only noise came from the quiet hum from the vents, and even that seemed like nothing compared to the way our footsteps echoed through the empty hallway.</p><p>“I’ll show Willow her room,” Natasha said, looking at Wanda. “I think the boys ordered food upstairs if you’re hungry?”</p><p>“Sounds great,” said Wanda. “I’ll see you two later.” She left down another corridor and I continued to follow Natasha through the Facility. It smelled like new construction, like the school did at the beginning of the year. We eventually arrived at a slightly smaller hallway, lined with doors and with a large window at the end of it. She stopped in front of one of the doors and opened it, a lock unclicking when her fingers contacted the handle.</p><p>“This is where you’ll be staying,” Natasha said. “This is your room.”</p><p>“My room?” I echoed as she flicked on the lights. “Like… this is…” Even at Marty’s, I never really felt like I had my <em>own </em>room, it was just the guest room. I was just a guest. The closer was used for his dad’s storage and I had never really decorated it or put up any posters. It had just been where I slept and kept my stuff. Now, I put the cage down, out of the way, in a corner near the window and slowly took in the space. The bed itself seemed bigger than my entire cell at the Facility, and the walls were lined with windows on their upper half. It was carpeted and the lights were soft, not like the florescent lights of any other room I stayed in before. There were drawers, empty shelves, a TV perched on a dresser.</p><p>“I get a TV?” I asked.</p><p>“Well… yeah,” said Natasha. “And anything else that you want, just let one of us know and we can get it for you. Bathroom is stocked with basic toiletries and there are clothes in the dressers. Mostly sweats and tee-shirts and training wear that we already had, but again, if there’s anything else…”</p><p>I place my backpack down on a chair and continue to stare, wordlessly.</p><p>“Thermostat is here, light controls are also here,” she said, pointing to a panel on the wall. “Stark also hooked up the building with one of his AIs, so if you need anything, you can also ask FRIDAY. So… for example… FRIDAY, lower the blinds.”</p><p>“Now lowering the blinds,” a voice said, emanating from an unseen speaker, causing me to almost jump out of my skin.</p><p>“So, this is yours,” said Natasha. “Is there anything you think you might need for later tonight that I could get you?”</p><p>“No. I-I think this is good.” I stepped over to the bed and pushed down on it, testing its firmness, and the mattress seemed to envelop my hand in the foam. Way cushier than anything I ever had before. I didn’t know what to do now, what to say, because I wanted to say thank you, but it was hard to even get the words out. That would mean accepting all of this. That would mean acknowledging that all this was <em>mine </em>and it was a concept so foreign now that I felt like I might be mistaken, like I might make the wrong assumption, that this was only another temporary stop.</p><p>“Are you all right?” Natasha asked, and I felt my cheeks redden.</p><p>“Yeah,” I said, sitting down on the bed. “Um… this is just… a lot.” I tried to put my feelings into words. “It’s… um… I just don’t feel like I…”</p><p>Natasha sat down on the bed next to me and as her weight shifted the mattress, I pulled myself further away. “What’s going on?” she asked. “I know you must have a million thoughts.”</p><p>“I just feel like… this is a mistake,” I finally said. “I don’t feel like I belong here. Because you guys are like… heroes… I mean I’ve seen you on <em>TV </em>and I’m… I’m just really messed up. I just don’t want to be a burden,” I blurted out. “And when I’m not that, I’m just an asset. Everywhere I go it’s the same. If I’m not a burden, I’m there because I’m useful.” I stared down at my almost-healed cut on my hands, but even now that the healing process was almost complete, the scars had stayed.</p><p>After a pause, Natasha spoke. “Well, you’re not a burden, and you’re not here because we’re putting you out in the field any time soon,” she said. “You’re here because you needed help, and we felt that we were the best people to help you.”</p><p>“But why?” I asked.</p><p>“Because we believe in second chances,” she answered. “And what you’re going through, what you’ve been through, that’s not something you should have to deal with alone.”</p><p><em>Okay.</em> I wasn’t sure if I accepted the reasoning, but I was too exhausted and hungry to think otherwise.</p><p>“Okay,” said Natasha, getting up. “I have a few things I need to do, so why don’t you get cleaned up, settled in, and I’ll come back to get you in half an hour? Your room has its own bathroom, so you can shower, and change out of your SHIELD stuff if you want.”</p><p>“Okay,” I said. “And you’ll come back?”</p><p>“Yeah. I’ll be just down the hall if you need me before that. You can ask FRIDAY. All right?”</p><p>When she left, I took another lap around the room, studying everything, trying again to make sense out of it all. And what about tomorrow? And the day after that? We had only talked a little on the plane, and it sounded like SHIELD wanted me here for at least a few months, before settling me somewhere more permanent. So, I knew this wasn’t my new home, or anything like that. I <em>knew </em>that, and I knew that these people were only doing SHIELD a favor. Right? Because in a few months, once my powers were under control, I’d be turned out somewhere else, and we’d probably never talk again. <em>That’s how it always ends. I can’t imagine it any other way.</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Meeting the Avengers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Willow has dinner and meets the other Avengers</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <ul>
<li>
<b>Words: </b>1310</li>
<li>
<b>Characters: </b>Willow Wren, Natasha Romanoff, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, James Rhodes, Wanda Maximoff, Vision</li>
<li>
<b>Timeline: </b>March 2016</li>
<li>
<b>Song: </b><a href="https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DH-kA3UtBj4M&amp;t=Y2NmOTNiYzcwMDg3ZjU5Zjk4ZWUzNDgwZGZkMmMyNzU4M2M5MmM5OSxXZmJVWGpJYQ%3D%3D&amp;b=t%3Ah330fsP_66fAsgU472BqWw&amp;p=https%3A%2F%2Femcon-ocs.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F622406837819604992%2Fmeeting-the-avengers&amp;m=1">What’s Going On? - Marvin Gaye</a>
</li>
<li>
<b>A/N: </b><em>i think this is the largest amount of canon characters I’ve ever had in one scene???</em>
</li>
</ul><p>—————————————————————————–</p><p>I turned the shower as hot as it would go and stood under the stream with my eyes closed for minutes as my skin turned red and blotchy. But when I closed my eyes, all I saw were images from the HYDRA lab and from the months before that, even ones from the Facility. When I opened them, I found myself trying to focus on any little thing I could grasp—water running down the glass, the bruises on my legs. I thought about Peter—and what he’d say if he knew where I was now. I thought about Marty, and Kate, and Ned. <em>If only Marty could see this. But if Marty were still alive, you wouldn’t be here.</em></p><p>I got out, changed into a pair of sweats and a tee-shirt from the drawers, studied my face in the foggy mirror. I was still healing, and the dark circles under my eyes hadn’t faded yet. I didn’t know if it was just from all the traveling that day, but I was beyond sore again, and it was only getting worse. I felt like I had been steamrollered, and then that steamrolled had reversed, and then run over me again.</p><p>When Natasha came back to get me, I was towel-drying my hair and sitting on the edge of the bed, my bed, trying to stop my leg from bouncing and think about anything besides the lab.</p><p>“Hi,” she said, standing in the doorway. “How are you feeling now?”</p><p>“Uh… okay. I guess.”</p><p>“Hungry?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>I got up and followed her out of the room, back down one of the wide hallways. I wish I had something else to say, some conversation to start up, but even the thought of speaking felt overwhelming. The building felt massive, almost as big as MSST and I wondered how much of it I would get to see during my stay.</p><p>I started to pick up voices further away, the occasional laugh, a chair scraping across the floor. My pace slowed, almost stopped in the hallway. Natasha stopped and looked down at me, while I took a deep breath and tried to keep my expression neutral to hide my anxiety. <em>I never used to be like this. I still miss who I was.</em></p><p>“What is it?” she asked.</p><p>“Uh… it’s just… I can hear lots of people. Is that… them?”</p><p>“Yeah. You all right?”</p><p>“Yeah I’m <em>fine</em>,” I said, snippier than I intended, trying to cover whatever else I was feeling. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?” I mumbled.</p><p>She stared a little longer before starting to walk again and I followed behind her until we got to the room at the end of the hall. The voices were louder now, and I could smell food. “This is the common area,” said Natasha. “Kitchen, lounge, conference room, workshops.” I nodded and she opened the door. “Hey, guys.”</p><p>I stood motionless in front of the door as she walked over to the table filled with boxes of takeout.</p><p>Even with my enhanced hearing, their conversation seemed to fade away as she asked what they had ordered and picked through the boxes, one of the guys making a joke. <em>Captain America </em>was there, leaning against the back of a couch, a plate of food in his hand. <em>Oh, Jesus. </em>I saw Wanda sitting crossed legged on one of the chairs, balancing a plate in her lap and just as I got a glimpse of the other two guys, I made eye contact with the… person sitting in the chair adjacent to Wanda’s. I couldn’t tell if he was a man or a robot, and it honestly unnerved me a little.</p><p>Just as I started staring at the glowing gem in his head, he spoke. “Oh. You must be Willow.”</p><p>Natasha turned back around to look at me and motioned me forward. “Come get something to eat.” I was frozen for a few seconds longer and it felt like time stopped as the others also turned to look over at me. I wanted to shrink back inside myself, just teleport out of the room and somewhere that felt safer. I took a single step forward, looking back at Natasha, as she held out a plate.</p><p>“Um… it’s… for everyone?” I asked as if somehow, I was wrong and the food on the table was for Avengers Only.</p><p>“Yeah,” said Natasha. “Yeah, come eat. Here, what do you like?”</p><p>I walked over to the table, one of the other guys stepped back to let me through and I studied the food on the table. Chinese food. I’d had Chinese food before, maybe twice with Marty. It hadn’t been his favorite. “Um… the rice would be good,” I said quietly, realizing I was the only one talking now, making the only noise besides the music playing quietly in the background, some seventies hit. “Like whatever there’s a lot of. Noodles?”</p><p>“Okay, rice, lo mein, got it. Want any crab Rangoon?” She pointed to a carton of something friend golden yellow and crispy.</p><p>“Uh… sorry, what are those?” I asked. “I’ve never had crab… Rangoon.”</p><p>“They’re good,” said one of the other men nodding. “It’s like… uh… well, crab and some sort of filling… Rhodey, what’s the filling made out of?”</p><p>Rhodey shrugged. “No clue.”</p><p>“It’s mostly cream cheese, garlic, Worcestershire sauce,” said the robot guy, who was still staring. I felt like he could read minds or something, which at this point, wouldn’t surprise me.</p><p>“See, okay?” said the first man, smiling. “Can’t go wrong.”</p><p>“Okay,” I said, to Natasha. “I’ll try one.”</p><p>She put two on the plate and then handed the filled plate to me, clearing a spot at the table so I could sit down. I placed the plate down on the table and sat down, my heart still beating way to fast for what should be an easygoing takeout night.</p><p>“Sam,” said the first man, holding out his hand and introducing himself. I took his hand and we shook.</p><p>“Willow.”</p><p>“And that’s Rhodey and Vision,” said Captain America, speaking up, pointing at Rhodey and the robot guy. “And I’m Steve. You already know Wanda and Nat.”</p><p>I picked up one of the plastic forks and looked around the group of heroes, just trying to act normal, like I wasn’t still seeing ghosts every time I shut my eyes or let my mind wander for too long. “Hi,” I said to Steve, still trying to recontextualize him as Steve and wondering if it would be weird to still call him Captain America because anything else felt too informal. “Sorry about running that time when you came to my school.”</p><p>He chuckled and glanced down. “Yeah. Definitely not what we were hoping for. But then again, maybe we shouldn’t have ambushed you like that.”</p><p>Sam laughed and nodded as he stabbed a piece of food with his fork. “Yeah. When you came off that roof—wow. How fast can you go?”</p><p>I shook my head. “I don’t know. I bet it’s in their files somewhere though. But that was from when I was younger.”</p><p>I started to feel self-conscious again, and it was at this moment that Natasha directed the conversation back to Captain America. Steve. “So, what was new with Tony?”</p><p>Cap started talking and I turned my attention back to the food, taking a nibble out of one of the crab Rangoon. It <em>was </em>good—Sam was right—and when I snuck a look back up from my plate, he was smiling and nodding. “Told you.”</p><p>I realized that the others had probably been briefed already by Natasha, likely after we met at SHIELD. Their conversation shifted again as someone made a joke about Tony and the focus left me, finally, so that I could just eat and try to take it all in.  </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Midnight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Willow finds herself unable to sleep during her first night at the Avengers Compound </p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <ul>
<li>
<b>Words: </b>1027</li>
<li>
<b>Characters: </b>Willow Wren, Wanda Maximoff</li>
<li>
<b>Timeline: </b>March 2016</li>
<li>
<b>Song: </b><a href="https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DbTrNgQXhI1U&amp;t=Njk2NGU3ZGY5Y2JmMGZjZjAyYjVlMDZlMzk1YjVkM2M1ZTUxOWI4Nix4MzJRT1U5UA%3D%3D&amp;b=t%3Ah330fsP_66fAsgU472BqWw&amp;p=https%3A%2F%2Femcon-ocs.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F623034796064587776%2Fmidnight&amp;m=1">Midnight - Trans Siberian Orchestra</a>
</li>
<li>
<b>A/N: </b><em>sorry i took so long to update!!</em>
</li>
</ul><p>—————————————————————————–</p><p>That night, I sat in my room, the lights all out, unable to sleep. Even though dinner had been all right and everyone was nice, now that the dark and quiet had settled in and I was alone, I couldn’t force myself to sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw images I didn’t want to see, flashes of the lab, and the months before it. The Facility, even. I thought I had a handle on it all, I thought I could get over it. <em>You can’t get over something like that.</em></p><p>
  <em>But I thought I could.</em>
</p><p>And in the months of sleeping on the roof, in a tent, of running from all the different agencies, of being in the HYDRA lab, I was so used to only half-sleeping, constantly listening, thinking that the smallest noise meant disaster. I had been listening to everything, and I couldn’t let myself relax. I heard noises that weren’t even there, thinking I heard someone talking to me when I shut my eyes, footsteps, a knock.</p><p>My wings were outside the tank top I wore to bed and even when I wrapped them around myself tightly, it didn’t help me sleep at all.</p><p>So I got up and paced across the soft carpeting, wondering if I hit my head hard enough against something, I could knock myself out <em>without </em>having to worry about what my dreams would contain. I tried laying on the floor, with just my pillow, and it helped, but not much. Whenever I shut my eyes, I felt sick and panicky and restless, so much so that I almost thought I would throw up and ended up seeking refuge on the cool tiled floor of the bathroom. I didn’t have my phone to check the time, but the clock in the bedroom said it was only one in the morning. I clenched my hands together, trying to prevent the oncoming whirlwind from destroying the room, trying to hold it together long enough to just fall asleep. Because I was exhausted. I wanted to sleep so bad.</p><p>The room felt so stuffy, I was sweating, and somehow, my brain seemed to think that a glass of water would solve everything. I stood, my legs shaking, and filled up the glass cup left next to the sink. I took a sip, forcing myself to swallow, even though I felt like I was about to gag, and then went to place the glass back down on the counter.</p><p>Except, instead of placing it on the counter, my shaking hand missed and I dropped it straight onto the floor, the glass shattering across the tiles, the sound scared me and causing me to start coughing on the water I had just drunk.</p><p>“Shit,” I said, bending down to pick up the pieces, my fingers slipping on the wet shards, as my brain snapped back into reality. <em>Oh, God, I broke something, how am I going to hide this—</em></p><p>The knock on my door startled me and I froze. “Hello?” I called, and my voice wavered.</p><p>“Willow?” I heard Wanda’s voice and she opened the door. “I heard something break and I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”</p><p>“Oh,” I said. “Um…”</p><p>I heard the door creak open a little more and, in a few steps, she was peering into the bathroom, her eyes wide. “What happened?”</p><p>I glanced at the broken glass and water covering the floor. “Sorry… I’m sorry. It slipped and…” I folded my wings tight against my back, looking down at the ground, wishing I could run or disappear.</p><p>“Are you hurt? Don’t touch the glass, you’ll cut yourself.”</p><p>“No, I’m fine, but the glass…”</p><p>“It’s just a glass,” Wanda said and motioned me over. “Look.” When I was out of the way, she gathered the pieces in a ball of glowing red energy and moved them towards the trash bin, dropping them into the bag. “See? And the water will dry.” She adjusted the shawl she had pulled tightly around her and put her hand on my shoulder. “You’re shaking.”</p><p>“I am?”</p><p>“Yeah. What are you doing up right now?”</p><p>I shrugged her hand away and brushed past her. “I just can’t sleep. That’s all. Just… feel sick or something. I don’t know. And I’m trying to sleep but I just can’t and…” I sat down on the edge of my bed. “I’m fine. Just… sometimes I can’t get my stupid brain to turn off. I just see things… hear things…”</p><p>Wanda grabbed the television remote off the dresser and came over to sit next to me, turning the TV on.</p><p>“What are you doing?” I asked.</p><p>“Putting something on,” she answered, pulling up the search feature, my bedroom filling with the soft blue glow of the TV. “There’s this one nature documentary series I like to watch when I can’t sleep.” She turned back to look at me and tugged the comforter up. “Come on. Get comfortable.”</p><p>I climbed back on into bed, collapsing into the pillows as Wanda pulled the comforter back over me and started an episode of the documentary series, one about the rainforest. “My mother used to do this when me or my brother couldn’t sleep,” she said. “I like to close my eyes, see if I can picture what they’re saying. It helps me sleep.”</p><p>I was skeptical, but somehow her presence was comforting, and I already felt my eyelids drooping. Curling up under the comforter, I slowly unfolded my wings again, pulling them back around me tightly. “That’s like me,” I mumbled, as the camera focus on a close-up of a black bat. “Just like me.” I looked back at Wanda, sitting cross-legged on the bed. “You don’t have to stay,” I said. “I’m fine.”</p><p>“At least let me stay until you fall asleep,” she said.</p><p>“But aren’t you tired?”</p><p>“Not really,” Wanda said. “But I won’t have to stay if you don’t want me to.”</p><p>I thought about it, but the idea of being alone again, in the dark, even with the TV on made the panic resurface. “No, I guess you can stay if you want.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. What You Remember, What You Take</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Steve and Willow meet and discuss her old HYDRA file</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <ul>
<li>
<b>Words: </b>1356</li>
<li>
<b>Characters: </b>Willow Wren, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers</li>
<li>
<b>Timeline: </b>March 2016</li>
<li>
<b>Song: </b><a href="https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D0m6sUf5C_CU&amp;t=OTU0ZWM0NTA4MTU5Y2E0NmExZTE0YjNjZWJkZGFhOWRmZTE1NWMzNixMNG9KQlNrWg%3D%3D&amp;b=t%3Ah330fsP_66fAsgU472BqWw&amp;p=https%3A%2F%2Femcon-ocs.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F623672630487187457%2Fwhat-you-remember-what-you-take&amp;m=1">Vision - M83</a>
</li>
<li>
<b>A/N: </b><em>:)</em>
</li>
</ul><p>—————————————————————————–</p><p>When I woke up, it was around eight in the morning, far later than I had slept in a long time. I blinked a few times and tried to readjust to my surroundings and the quiet. Outside the window, I saw the landscape in the sunlight for the first time, acres of lawn, a lake, and forest as far as I could see. <em>How do I convince myself this is safe?</em></p><p>I ate breakfast in the kitchen that morning, from a box of cereal that was already out when I got down there. Sam, the guy from the night before was sitting at one of the tables and pointed at the cabinets when he saw me in the doorway.</p><p>“Bowls are up there if you want some,” he said. “You like Honey Bunches?”</p><p>“I don’t think I’ve ever had it,” I said, and I grabbed a bowl from the cabinet and a spoon before sitting down diagonal from him at the table and carefully pouring myself some. I tried a spoonful. “It’s crunchy.”</p><p>“No milk?” Sam asked. “There’s some in the fridge.”</p><p>“I don’t like milk and cereal,” I said.</p><p>“All right,” said Sam, chuckling to himself a little. “Hey, Nat.”</p><p>I turned around to see Natasha in the doorway, holding a tablet, looking like she had been up for hours already. “Mornin’, guys” she said. “Willow, how did you sleep?”</p><p>“Uh… fine.”</p><p>“You gonna ask me?” Sam teased.</p><p>Natasha rolled her eyes. “How did you sleep, Sam?”</p><p>“Not too bad.”</p><p>“Cap wants to meet with you when you’re done eating,” Natasha told me. “His office is just down the hall from your room and the door is open when you’re ready.”</p><p>I nodded, and returned to my cereal, while she went into the conference room and set out papers on the table, probably for a meeting.</p><p>I went down to Steve’s office about fifteen minutes later, after I had polished the bowl off and made quiet conversation with Sam, who seemed to want to know everything about my flying abilities. It wasn’t something I was used to talking about with anyone, not even Marty. My answers were short, sometimes one word, though I wish I was able to make myself say more. “Once you’re settled in, I’ll convinced Nat to let us go for a flight or something,” said Sam. “You show me what you know, and I’ll see if I can give you any pointers. Deal?”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>As I walked down to Steve’s office, I was nervous, and I didn’t know why. I felt like I was in trouble or something. <em>Is this about the glass? Did Wanda tell him? Or… did I forget to do something I was supposed to? Or say something wrong?</em></p><p>I stood outside the threshold of his office door, and he must have heard me coming because he closed the hologram he had up in front of him before turning around and inviting me in. “Hey, Willow. You can sit if you want.” As I crossed the office to sit in one of the chairs across his desk, I heard him pull a stack of papers and folders out from a drawer and place it down between us. “You’re not in trouble,” he reassured me. “There’s just a few more things I wanted to go over with you.”</p><p>I stared at the folder on his desk. “What’s in there?”</p><p>Steve opened it and I saw a photo clipped inside of it and pages and pages of notes. “We found your HYDRA file when SHIELD raided the lab you were at.”</p><p>The photo was black and white, a clipping of—</p><p>“Is that me?” I asked, pointing at the picture. The girl in the picture seemed so tiny, her cheeks sunken and her eyes hollow and rimmed with sleeplessness. <em>Me. That was me. </em>Wide-eyed. Scared. Leaning against the wall behind her support. Freshly stitched cuts visible on her arm. I remembered sitting for stitches when I got back from missions letting them patch me up while I would sit motionless, hardly even feeling the prick of the needle. I had never seen a picture of myself from before New York City. “I was thirteen there,” I murmured. “That was from right before I escaped.” I touched the scar still on my upper left arm. “I remember getting those stitches.”</p><p>“Are you okay going through some of this?” Steve asked. “I know it’s probably the last thing you want to do, but anything you could tell us would be helpful, especially now that we’ve recovered this file. But we don’t have to do this now—”</p><p>“It’s okay, I can do it,” I said. “What do you want to know?” <em>I just want to put this all behind me. Whatever it takes. </em>“Can I… look?” I asked.</p><p>Steve slid the full file over to me and I thumb through for the first time, scanning the pages and pages of experiments and documentation, my whole childhood laid out in front of me, finally. Notes written about me, thoughts on exposing us to the stuff in the Blue Lab. <em>Unwilling to comply. Further conditioning will be needed. Subject is dangerous, even under Faustus. Exercise caution.</em></p><p>“Faustus,” I said. “That was the initial… uh… mind control or whatever they used on us. That started when we first arrived at the Facility. When I was six, I think.”</p><p>“Five,” Steve corrected. “They said you got there when you were five.”</p><p>“What?” I asked. “Really?” <em>Five. I got there when I was five? </em>I continued to flip through the pages. “Wait, then how old does that make me now? Does it have my birthday in here?”</p><p>“Afraid not,” said Steve. “When HYDRA picked you up, they were told you were five.”</p><p>“I do remember that night,” I said. “They came to the apartment; said they were from SHIELD. They said they’d have me home by the next afternoon. I remember that now. But I never went home.” I saw a note about a <em>reset </em>and I pointed that out to Steve as well. “That’s how they used to wipe our memories after missions.” I then pointed to a shorthand reference to <em>Monster</em>. “And that’s what they called the real brainwashing stuff. She’d have this book that she’d read from. Like trigger words, maybe? But that was always right before missions. That’s what would make me <em>not me</em>. And I wouldn’t remember anything once that happened…” I realized I was rambling, caught up in recalling the memories, anything I could.</p><p>“We can stop if you want,” Steve said gently. “You don’t have to go through all this now. And if there’s stuff you don’t want to know—”</p><p>I sighed. “No, I need to know. What else is there?”</p><p>“It says here that you went on twenty-three missions while you were under their control. But…”</p><p>“Some of those had multiple… um… targets,” I said. “The actual number is a lot higher. I know that. Like the Russian one, the family. In 2008.”</p><p>“You were six then.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>“How did you get out from under their control?” Steve asked, closing the file and moving it to the side.</p><p>“This word,” I said, showing Steve the scar on the palm of my hand. “It was the first word of the sequence in the Monster book. Russian, I think. I used to write it on my arm as a kid because it would be the last thing I’d remember before they’d… you know. And seeing it… it reminded me of who I was right before the brainwashing. It brought me back to that moment. Just enough to escape.”</p><p>“What about the others? Did they do the same?”</p><p>“What others?” I asked. <em>How much does he know? I’m not letting my siblings get wrapped up in this.</em></p><p>“Well, it mentions that there were other children involved in these experiments, even on your team. Do you remember them?”</p><p>“No. And I don’t think they had powers. Not like me.”</p><p>Steve crossed his arms, sitting back in his chair and looked at me for a long time while I tried to judge if he bought the lie. “Do you want a copy of this?” he finally asked. “SHIELD is keeping the original.”</p><p>“Yeah, I’ll take one.” <em>I want to know. I have to remember. It’s the only way I can make things right.</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Friendships</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Willow adjusts to life at the Avengers Compound</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <ul>
<li>
<b>Words: </b>881</li>
<li>
<b>Characters: </b>Willow Wren, Natasha Romanoff </li>
<li>
<b>Timeline: </b>March 2016</li>
<li>
<b>Song: </b><a href="https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D96NgGuKQcmo&amp;t=ZjhiY2I3OTMyY2YwNjg5ZmM3ZWM5NWY0YmZlNmFmNWEzYTM4OWEzOCxrUGl6UmUzTw%3D%3D&amp;b=t%3Ah330fsP_66fAsgU472BqWw&amp;p=https%3A%2F%2Faka-willow.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F623932455467073536%2Ffriendships&amp;m=1">Forbidden Friendship - John Powell</a>
</li>
<li>
<b>A/N: </b><em>there really should be a montage here if this was like a mid-2000s cliche teen drama/action film</em>
</li>
</ul><p>—————————————————————————–</p><p>“<em>Fuck!”</em></p><p>I was slammed down on the training mats for what seemed like the thousandth time that day. I was told that for this portion of combat training, I wasn’t allowed to use my powers, and it was seriously cramping my style. I shut my eyes as I lay on the mat, only for a second, before heaving myself back up to try again. We had been working since lunchtime, Natasha trying to get me to change up my fighting style. <em>You’re smaller than most of your opponents, </em>she had told me. <em>So, you need to learn to use their strength against them. </em>Which sounded great, in theory. But in practice, it made me feel uncoordinated and unprepared, trying to anticipate her next move.</p><p>“Take your time,” Natasha reminded me as I prepped for another round. “When HYDRA trained you, it was mostly on the offense, because if you got hurt…”</p><p>“Yeah,” I said, stretching my shoulder out. “It was about finishing the mission. Not matter what.”</p><p>“Which is why your defense needs work,” she said. “You won’t finish the mission if you get laid out each time you try. Not when you’re facing real threats. Again.”</p><p>We sparred again, and I got my ass kicked again, ending up back on the mat, my wings aching from the constant impact. Fighting people on the street, targets when I was a kid, all of that had seemed so easy, and now I felt like a beginner again, losing match after match.</p><p>“Try again. You need to be faster than that.” She smiled. “What was it… three times you got shot before coming here?”</p><p>“Shot once, stabbed once,” I corrected.</p><p>“That you remember.”</p><p>“That I remember.”</p><p>The rest of the morning was spent training. I had a sneaking feeling that Natasha had seen tapes from the Facility, because she seemed to know a lot about how I had been trained before. Steve hadn’t offered the tapes to me, but I still remembered Natasha mentioning them back when we first met at SHIELD. <em>I don’t need to see those anyways. The first time was enough.</em></p><p>I had been with the Avengers for five days now, settling into a strange but comfortable routine. Natasha had FRIDAY wake me up at seven, then breakfast, and the Avengers had a morning briefing, while I usually watched TV in the lounge. Trained with Natasha until about noon. Lunch. School work until about four. Hang out in my room or in the lounge. Dinner. Training with Wanda or Sam. And then the rest of the night was off.</p><p>I had been caught off guard on the third day, when Natasha handed me a laptop and a bunch of school materials from MSST. “We’re having you keep up with school,” she had told me. “No excuses.”</p><p>“Wait, <em>what?</em>”</p><p>So, I was still stuck doing homework and keeping up with my classes, along with whatever additional assignments everyone else at the Avengers Compound gave me. And because I had absolutely bombed my second trimester, it was an uphill battle to finish the ninth grade. I wasn’t sure what they had told my teachers, and I wasn’t able to access anything to talk with anyone from school. Besides the one email they let me send to Peter and Ned, and a message I had them relay to Jessica, I was off the grid. <em>I don’t even know what memes are trending right now. Fuck.</em></p><p>We broke for lunch after training, and as we walked to the kitchen, I suddenly remembered my question from earlier. “How much of my… file… have you read? I mean, you mentioned my training back at the Facility.”</p><p>“Which file?” Natasha asked, not breaking her stride. She chuckled. “You’ve got several.”</p><p>“The HYDRA one,” I said.</p><p>“I’ve read all of it,” she answered, and then paused. “Does it bother you?”</p><p>“I don’t know. It’s just… weird… having people know things about you. I mean, back at school, no one knew where I came from or what I had done. Though, I guess I really didn’t know back then either. The only person who knew was Marty.” I almost added <em>and Peter </em>but thought better of it. “Jessica knew some things. Not all of it.”</p><p>“When did you start to remember?” Natasha asked.</p><p>“I don’t think I ever forgot,” I said, just as we rounded the corner to the kitchen and lounge. “Not really. Used to… well I still do… have these awful dreams, even before I really understood what happened there. But now I think it’s here to stay.” I didn’t like saying those words aloud, <em>I think it’s here to stay. </em>But there was no more forgetting what happened at the Facility, no more pretending that it didn’t happen. Those images, those memories were here to stay. And if I had learned anything for my trip to Dulce, there would always be others out there. Even in Doctor Turner was gone, if that project had ended, there would be others. New people who would want to control me, new people who would want to run experiments. That would never go away. It was part of being me.</p><p>“Well, we’re here if you ever want to talk,” Natasha offered, and I shook my head.</p><p>“I’ll be all right.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Pizza Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Wanda tries to help Willow cook a pizza</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <ul>
<li>
<b>Words: </b>1543</li>
<li>
<b>Characters: </b>Willow Wren, Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff, Vision</li>
<li>
<b>Timeline: </b>April 2016</li>
<li>
<b>Song: </b><a href="https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DtnFy1luxL0A&amp;t=ODFjODQ3YjU0ZDU4MWZhMWRiYmVlOTYyYjAyZDFhYjBjNGY0NzIxMyxCSW5GaE5BRQ%3D%3D&amp;b=t%3Ah330fsP_66fAsgU472BqWw&amp;p=https%3A%2F%2Faka-willow.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F624290814173102080%2Fpizza-time&amp;m=1">What’s Up - 4 Non Blondes</a>
</li>
<li>
<b>A/N: </b><em>thought Willow deserved a break ajdshf</em>
</li>
</ul><p>—————————————————————————–</p><p>I was sitting at the counter in the kitchen, peering under the towel over the bowl at the rising dough underneath. “How do we know when it’s ready?” I asked Wanda. She was consulting the directions on her phone again, and we had just had a laugh about the introduction of the online recipe, which the author opened with “<em>During the alien attacks in the Battle of New York, I was visiting family in Colorado…”</em></p><p>“It’s probably ready by now,” she said. “Here, help me clear the counter and we can roll it out.”</p><p>“Are you sure?” I asked, lifting up the corner of the towel again. “What if it hasn’t been long enough?”</p><p>“It’s been thirty minutes since you last punched it down,” Wanda said, spraying down the counter with a disinfectant. “I don’t think a few minutes will kill us.” Still, I couldn’t shake my concern, and if I had my phone, I definitely would have looked up proper pizza-dough-rising times. “Could you get the flour out?” Wanda asked. “It’s in the pantry on the third shelf, in one of the plastic containers.”</p><p>I jumped down from the stool and opened up the pantry, still in awe of how much <em>food </em>the Avengers had in storage at the Compound. <em>I used to get by on like a box of cereal and dumpster diving not too long ago. </em>I found the flour and brought it back to the counter, opening up the container and resisting the urge to stick my whole hand in the flour, just to see what it would feel like.</p><p>“Are your hands still clean?” Wanda asked as if she was reading my mind.</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“You can go ahead and start sprinkling some flour on this area here, then,” she said, looking back at the directions on her phone. “A good amount.”</p><p>“What’s a good amount?” I asked, not wanting to mess it up.</p><p>“Just make sure the whole surface is covered.”</p><p>I stuck my hand in and scooped flour our, carefully carrying it over to the counter space Wanda had cleared. “Right here?” I asked.</p><p>“Right there,” she said, resetting the stove timer right before it went off, and stirring the pizza sauce again.</p><p>We rolled out half of the pizza dough, debating if it <em>would </em>be possible to use our powers to do so, and with me asking if she could cook the pizza with her powers (she couldn’t). Afterward, we transferred it to the pizza stone and it was at just this moment that Vision returned from the store with toppings.</p><p>“Freshly cut peppers and onions, extra shredded cheese, and… mushrooms?” he confirmed.</p><p>“Yeah! Those are for my half of this one,” I said. “Thanks.” I held up my hand for a high-five, but he walked past it as he put the groceries down on the empty chair. <em>Note to self: teach robot cool handshakes.</em></p><p>“Thanks, Viz,” Wanda said. “We owe you one.”</p><p>“Oh, it wasn’t a problem at all.” He joined Wanda on the other side of the counter, studying the mess we had made so far. “Is it… going well?”</p><p>Wanda laughed. “So far, so good. Willow’s been a great help.”</p><p>I folded my arms and looked down at the counter, smiling just a little bit. Wanda and I had been hanging out in the evenings after training, sometimes changing up the schedule so we ate a late dinner afterward while everyone else chilled with us in the lounge. It was just Wanda, Vision, and I right now, though, not as overwhelming, and music was playing quietly over the sound system, a playlist of hits that FRIDAY had shuffled for us. For the first time in forever, I had my wings outside my shirt, able to stretch whenever I wanted. Natasha had been able to get an updated wardrobe with slits in the back of the shirts and it made everything, including training, much more comfortable. <em>I never even knew this was an option in clothes. </em>At first, I had been self-conscious about having my wings visible, but no one seemed to treat me any differently.</p><p>“The sauce is ready,” Wanda said, pulling me out of my thoughts. “Here, why don’t you scoop some out and put it on the dough?”</p><p>“How much?” I asked.</p><p>“As much as you want on it.”</p><p>
  <em>That’s not really a helpful answer. How much sauce was on Dominos?</em>
</p><p>We finished assembling the first pizza, covering it with cheese and toppings on each of our halves. I got up and watched as Wanda slid it into the warm oven, turning on the light so that we could see it cook. I sat down in front of the oven, up on the counter, and watched it cook. “How do we know when it’s done? What if it’s too doughy? Or we burn it?”</p><p>“It’ll be fine,” Wanda reassured me, but I stayed sitting, watching the pizza while she talked with Vision. I hummed along to the song that was playing over the speakers until I realized I knew it—it was a song I knew from before escaping the Facility. I had heard it once, most likely on an assignment. It had stayed in my head for years, even through all the resets. I started mouthing the words to myself, half speaking them aloud. Earlier in the day, I had started reading and taking notes on the copy of my HYDRA file and I wanted to keep the good memories, get rid of everything else. I wanted the few good things back because it was my life. This song had been a good one.</p><p>I realized that Wanda and Vision’s conversation had gone quiet, and when I turned around, they were watching me. “What?” I asked.</p><p>“No, keep going!” she said, smiling. I turned red and looked back at the baking pizza, back to only humming the lyrics. “FRIDAY, turn the volume up,” Wanda said.</p><p>I jumped down and leaned onto the counter, shaking my head. Still, as the second verse kicks in, I can’t help but to continue speaking the lyrics, starting to smile as the memories come back and Wanda eggs me on. And I’ll admit it—I’m a bit of a ham. I can’t sing but that doesn’t mean I don’t get into it, interpretive dancing and everything. That’s showbiz, babey.</p><p>So, by the second chorus, we’re jumping around the kitchen, yelling the lyrics and for one moment, I feel like I’m back home again, with my friends, goofing around after play rehearsal. <em>God, how far I’ve come since I heard this song for the first time. </em>I pick up the rolling pin from the counter and hold it like a microphone, grinning as I yell “<em>what’s going on?!”</em></p><p>As we’re catching our breath from the second chorus, the door opens and Natasha walks into the kitchen. Wanda is still laughing but I place down the rolling pin.</p><p>“You guys seem to be having fun,” Natasha remarks, walking past me to the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water.</p><p>“Did you know Willow’s never cooked before?” Wanda asked Natasha. “That’s why we’re making pizza tonight.”</p><p>“I’ve cooked,” I said. “Like mac and cheese and stuff.”</p><p>“From a box!<em>”</em></p><p><em>Okay, fair. How many times have you had an actual home-cooked meal? </em>I try to shrug it off. “We always ate takeout at Marty’s. Or like… cereal and plain pasta. His dad was never home, and Marty… couldn’t cook.” I snapped my fingers. “Eggs. I can make eggs sometimes.”</p><p>“Sometimes?” Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow as she sat down on one of the couches and opened the bottle of water.</p><p>“Well… I… sometimes they don’t come out right.”</p><p>“Got it.”</p><p>I look back at the pizza, and the cheese has just started bubbling on the top. “Uh… Wanda?” I asked, getting her attention. “The cheese is doing the thing.”</p><p>“All right, let’s see,” said Wanda, coming back over to the oven and cracking it open. “Hmm. A few more minutes and it’ll be done. Nice work.” She gave me a pat on my back, on my wings, and I flinched and pulled away. “Oh, sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know…”</p><p>The only people that had ever touched my wings had been scientists, and it was never voluntary or gentle. In fact, I could still see scars on them from my recent time in HYDRA labs, scars that I wasn’t sure would ever completely disappear. I went silent again, shuffling back to the pizza workstation and putting more flour down. “Um… is this one also going to be half and half?”</p><p>“Yeah. You all right?”</p><p>“I fine,” I said quickly. “Uh… Natasha do you want any?” I looked over to where she’s sitting on the couch, having turned on the television at a low volume. “I could make you like a fourth. Or an eighth if I’m really careful.”</p><p>“I’m not picky,” she says. “I’ll try whatever you guys give me.”</p><p>“Vision?” I ask. “Uh… do you…”</p><p>“Eat?” he finishes. “No, but thank you for the offer.”</p><p>Wanda and I take the first pizza out in all of its sizzling glory and place it down to cool, while I stand above it, proud. It’s a little lopsided, but we made it ourselves.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Solid Walls of Sound</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Willow half-meets Tony Stark</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <ul>
<li>
<b>Words: </b>604</li>
<li>
<b>Characters: </b>Willow Wren, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark</li>
<li>
<b>Timeline: </b>April 2016</li>
<li>
<b>Song: </b><a href="https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DAaAyZaXbQbc&amp;t=NmY1OTNlM2Q3Nzg2NGZiNDQ1ZjMzMmU4ZGQ0YTEzNjUzODFlNTljZCx2eFl6RlNlSw%3D%3D&amp;b=t%3Ah330fsP_66fAsgU472BqWw&amp;p=https%3A%2F%2Faka-willow.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F625214217431220224%2Fsolid-walls-of-sound&amp;m=1&amp;ts=1596250746">Bennie and the Jets - Elton John</a>
</li>
<li>
<b>A/N: </b><em>next few are short because they’re really just snippets of scenes. returning to my roots lol</em>
</li>
</ul><p>—————————————————————————–</p><p>I finally met Tony Stark after I had been staying at the Compound for about two weeks. I guess a lot had been going on with his company or whatever and so it took him a bit to make it upstate. I was sitting in the lounge, doing schoolwork and staring at a blank word document while trying to pick a topic for my U.S. history paper, due at the end of the year. It was only April, but they wanted us to start our research now. <em>World War Two. I mean that’s easy, I’ll just ask Steve. No, that’s too mainstream. Everyone’s going to write a paper on Captain America. I can do better than that. I mean, I could interview him… but I don’t know. It needs something.</em></p><p>I heard voices and looked up from the table where I was doing work, to a new face way on the other end of the lounge, talking quietly to Natasha. I sunk a little lower in my seat, because the conversation seemed heated, and I wanted no part of it. Natasha glanced towards me for a second, but barely offered a smile as the two of them faced the window and talked.</p><p>
  <em>“Look since when did we become a halfway house for random kids, huh? I don’t remember that discussion.”</em>
</p><p><em>“You were away,”</em> Natasha said. <em>“You said you’d meet her when you got back.”</em></p><p>I turned my attention back to my computer, but I was still listening to their conversation, because I suddenly realized exactly what, who, it was about.</p><p>
  <em>“I read her file on the flight back. I mean, jeez, this isn’t just some kid. Last time I checked, that’s a HYDRA weapon, no matter how you look at it. And what, are we going to have to start putting booster seats on the quinjets?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Tony—"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I mean this is… she belongs back with SHIELD. Sorry to burst your powered-pet-bubble but—"</em>
</p><p>“<em>Tony</em>,” Natasha said sharply. “<em>She can hear you. Her hearing is…</em>”</p><p>I had been staring as Tony talked, trying to ignore the words but they hit deep. “It’s fine,” I said, looking back at my laptop screen, raising my voice to be heard across the lounge. “I’m used to—”</p><p>“No, it’s not fine,” Natasha interrupted. “You don’t deserve to be talked to like that, Willow.” Natasha was glaring daggers at Tony. “Steve’s in his office. You can discuss this with him there.”</p><p>Tony took off his glasses and folded them under his arm. “Hey, look, I’m sorry batkid. It’s nothing personal.”</p><p>“It sounded like it,” I mumbled. He didn’t respond and I heard a sigh and then retreating footsteps. I put my headphones in and turned my music back on—I had finally convinced Natasha to let me get Spotify on the computer for school. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Natasha walking over, and I knew she’d want to talk, and I didn’t want to.</p><p>I didn’t care about what Tony said, even if it was a sucky introduction. It was true, after all. In the back of my mind, I knew it was true.</p><p>“Willow,” Natasha said, sitting down in the chair next to the table I was working at. I tried not to listen; I didn’t want to have a conversation right now. “Willow, I know you can hear me.” She reached over and pulled one of my earbuds out.</p><p>I sighed. “What?”</p><p>“That stuff Tony said… Steve will set the record straight.”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>“I’m assuming you don’t want to talk about it.”</p><p>“Not really, no.”</p><p>And that was the end of that.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Make It Right</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Willow finds out the Avengers have been keeping another secret from her</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <ul>
<li>
<b>Words: </b>678</li>
<li>
<b>Characters: </b>Willow Wren, Vision</li>
<li>
<b>Timeline: </b>April 2016</li>
<li>
<b>Song: </b><a href="https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DQEPNAKpPgEk&amp;t=YjAxOTU4OGFjNGQxNzMwMDQ0Y2YyN2Y5NWI5MDYyZjg5ZWUxMzhjMCxaMG1pY25KdA%3D%3D&amp;b=t%3Ah330fsP_66fAsgU472BqWw&amp;p=https%3A%2F%2Faka-willow.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F625313644014682112%2Fmake-it-right&amp;m=1&amp;ts=1596345567">Atlas: Anger - Sleeping at Last</a>
</li>
<li>
<b>A/N: </b><em>I feel like Vision would be the worst tutor ever or the best. There’s no in between.</em>
</li>
</ul><p>—————————————————————————–</p><p>Vision had become my unofficial tutor for my science classes, helping since I was still adjusting to the whole online-learning thing at the compound. I think Wanda may have put Vision up to it, because he seemed as confused about the whole thing as I was.</p><p>Today, it was biology homework, and surprise surprise, we were on the “mutations” unit. I had been dreading that unit in school, and even though I wasn’t in the classroom, it was almost just as bad.</p><p>“I still don’t get this though,” I said to Vision. “I’ve read this chapter… like… three times. And I get it. Genes… I mean cells… multiply and sometimes they make mistakes and mutations happen.”</p><p>“Well, sort of,” Vision said. “That’s a simplified explanation. It’s really—”</p><p>“No, I get that,” I said. “But my question is, how do you go from like a normal human to… you know… something like <em>me</em>? Because there’s no way that was just one botched replication. I mean, in that case, someone had to get involved, right? Like that doctor?”</p><p>Vision thought for a moment. “There’s a chance something extreme happened during your development. But I don’t think it was the doctor. SHIELD has been working with her—”</p><p>“Sorry, <em>what?</em>” I ask, my blood running cold. “What do you mean? Dr. Turner? She’s… she’s alive?” <em>I mean, I should’ve assumed she was alive, did I really think I—</em></p><p>
  <em>How did I not ask about this before?</em>
</p><p>“Vision, why is she working with SHIELD?”</p><p>Vision was silent for a moment and he avoided eye contact, looking back at my homework. “Let’s return to your class, this is something you can discuss with—”</p><p>“No, I want to know now,” I said. “Why is she working with SHIELD? Why isn’t she in <em>prison? </em>And why did no one tell me this?”</p><p>Vision spoke evenly as if he was trying to defuse a bomb. “She’s only working with SHIELD under strict supervision while they look to understand the experiments that HYDRA was conducting. Her cooperation meant—”</p><p>“She should be in <em>prison,</em>” I said. “Not working with SHIELD; I don’t care what she’s helping them with.”</p><p>“Willow, perhaps you need to think about this more rationally. With her help, you might finally be able to understand what really happened. Where you came from. And why.”</p><p>“I <em>know </em>where I came from,” I said. “I don’t need to know why they did it. Do the others know? Did SHIELD tell the others?” I stood as I felt moving air begin to circulate around my fingers and tried to control it like Wanda taught me. “<em>Vision. </em>Do the others know?”</p><p>“…yes.”</p><p>“Why did no one tell me? And don’t say because it wasn’t important, because this was important.” <em>Where is she now? How do I find her?</em></p><p>“They feared your reaction. That you’d go after her.”</p><p>Everything in me slammed to a stop with his answer. <em>Of course. </em>And they were right. That’s how I reacted. <em>Because you can’t change. This is who you are. You’re motivated by revenge. You’re violent. A monster. That’s what they created. You can’t fix that. </em>I thought back to what Tony said, and suddenly my buried anger about that conversation hit as well. <em>He was right. They agree with him.</em></p><p>“I’m done with this for now,” I said, slamming my laptop shut and grabbing it, walking for the door of the lounge.</p><p>“Willow, please just…”</p><p>“This is why I can’t trust you guys!” I yelled back at him. “You guys tell me that I’m safe and that there are no more secrets and yet I find out people are working with the same woman who made me like this! And no one tells me to protect <em>her</em>? Did you see the things she did to us?” My voice cracks with every word. “Did you <em>see?</em>”</p><p>Vision calls after me again, but I’m already on my way to my room. I don’t want to talk to anyone, I don’t want them to try to rationalize it. <em>I was lied to. Again.</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Finding Peace</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Steve talks to Willow after her fight with Vision</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <ul>
<li>
<b>Words: </b>756</li>
<li>
<b>Characters: </b>Willow Wren, Steve Rogers</li>
<li>
<b>Timeline: </b>April 2016</li>
<li>
<b>Song: </b><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mfJRGftPCXc">Praying - Kesha</a>
</li>
<li>
<b>A/N: </b><em>it’s a baby chapter. also, does anyone actually read these? idk but here :)</em>
</li>
</ul><p>—————————————————————————–</p><p>I paced around my room, muttering to myself, to Nedward and Boxer Joe, eventually sitting on the floor with my back against the bed, hitting my head against the mattress over and over as I tried to figure out what happened now. <em>They didn’t tell me. What else aren’t they telling me? They’re probably right. I don’t deserve to know some things, but they could’ve at least been honest. How am I supposed to feel safe?</em></p><p>There was a knock on my door, and I lifted my head off my bed. At first, I thought it was Vision, but if it was him, he would’ve come through the wall. “Who is it?” I asked.</p><p>“It’s Steve, mind if I come in?”</p><p>When I didn’t respond, he opened the door a crack and leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed as he peered on in. “I heard you were upset with Vision.”</p><p>“Did he tell you?” I asked miserably.</p><p>“Look, I should’ve told you about where Doctor Turner was. That’s on me.” He walked over and sat down on the floor next to me and I stared at Nedward and Boxer Joe instead of making eye contact. “We thought that by not telling you…”</p><p>“You thought I’d try to go after her,” I finished. “That’s what Vision said. You were protecting her.”</p><p>“We were protecting you,” Steve said. “You deserve to be free from all that.”</p><p>“It’s because of what I’ve done,” I said. “What I am. I heard what Tony said. He’s right, isn’t he? Because no matter how hard I try, I can’t get <em>them </em>out of my head.”</p><p>“What you did, what they made you do, that wasn’t you,” Steve said, his voice soft. “You know that, right?”</p><p>“Still did it,” I said. “Still happened.” I tried to fake a smile, but it ended up as a shaky frown. Truth was, I still didn’t know how to be free from all that. I thought I was, I thought I was safe, but that didn’t stop the nightmares or the flashbacks, the little things that would set me off: someone accidentally touching my wings, the tiny static shock when I touched my doorknob, phrases, smells, sounds. I missed when I was back in eighth grade, recently escaped, with no memories of what happened before. I knew it had been bad, and that was all. I had no idea of what I had done. I could just focus on getting better without guilt.</p><p>All of that was finally boiling over.</p><p>“What are you thinking about?” Steve asked.</p><p>“Everything,” I said. “What if she escapes? Then what? What if she finds me?”</p><p>He sighed. “You know, when we brought you here, we had talks with lots of people. SHIELD, mostly. About whether it was safe to have a former HYDRA asset in the compound and about what was most beneficial for you. We kept your case internal, along with all your files. No one knows you exist here outside SHIELD and us. And with SHIELD, it’s high-level information. Very few people know.”</p><p>“What if… the words are still out there. I had been gone for a year and she said those words and all of the sudden… it was like nothing changed.”</p><p>“But you figured out how to break it,” Steve said. “If you did it before, if <em>somehow </em>someone who knew the words before the book burned found you, you could do it again. SHIELD considered this as well. This decision wasn’t taken lightly.”</p><p>“Tony seemed to disagree.”</p><p>“He didn’t know the full context,” said Steve. “You belong here, kid. Even Nat says you’re doing well, and believe me, she wouldn’t say it if she didn’t mean it. And someday, when SHIELD clears you to leave, if you chose to go back to New York to finish up school, you’re always going to have us. We’re not going anywhere.”</p><p>“Really?” I asked.</p><p>“Really,” Steve said. He checked the time. “All right, we have a meeting in a few minutes in the conference room. Do you want to sit in?”</p><p>“You’d let me?”</p><p>“Sure.” He stood and offered his hand to help me up, as I realized that in our conversation, I had stopped thinking about Doctor Turner. I didn’t feel the same burning anger to go find her now. <em>Wherever she is now, I can’t care anymore. She’s not hurting people anymore. That’s what counts. That’s what you wanted to stop. I’m done worrying about her. This isn’t forgiveness, but I want to be at peace.</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. To Sleep</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Willow finds herself unable to sleep again</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <ul>
<li>
<b>Words: </b>1148</li>
<li>
<b>Characters: </b>Willow Wren, Wanda Maximoff</li>
<li>
<b>Timeline: </b>April 2016</li>
<li>
<b>Song: </b><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MqoANESQ4cQ">Arrival of the Birds - The Cinematic Orchestra</a>
</li>
<li>
<b>A/N: </b><em>hey we’re getting dangerously close to Civil War territory here oopsie</em>
</li>
</ul><p>—————————————————————————–</p><p>Another nightmare, but this one felt more like a memory. I was back at the Facility, in the chair as they patched me up from a mission, and blood was still dried on my hands. Doctor Turner was saying things to me, but I didn’t understand what. My wings were pressed tightly against the back of the chair and ached. The restraints tightened. The headpiece lowered and a bite guard materialized in my mouth. The electricity started and I jolted awake, tangled in my sheets, my wings tangled in with them.</p><p>I pressed my hands to my face, let my eyes adjust to the dark. I was at the compound. I was safe. No one could get me here. And yet, I could still feel the way my muscles seized in the dream when the shocks started, the sensation playing on a loop in my head.</p><p>I got up with a sigh and after a moment of hesitation, I opened my bedroom door and padded down the long hall, to the lounge. It was dark, but I didn’t even turn on any lights as I made my way to the fridge and poured myself a cup of crushed ice from the ice dispenser, something Natasha had taught me to do when I started spiraling. I touched the edge of the cup to my lips and ate some of it, like I was eating snow. It helped, a little.</p><p>I couldn’t bring myself to go back to my room, because that’s where the nightmare was, and so I sat down on the couch instead, turning the television on and curling up against one of the armrests as I set the cup of ice down on the coffee table. With Animal Planet barely audible, I shut my eyes, resolving to wake up before anyone else did and caught me sleeping in the common area.</p><p>I drifted off, but as soon as I did the nightmare returned. Now I was in a cell at some HYDRA facility, scientists watching from the other side of the glass. My wings ached more and when I tried to move them, I realized I couldn’t. And then it changed and I was back in the field, another mission complete, trying to run as HYDRA dragged me away, back to a Facility, my wings still not working. When I looked up to see who the target was, it was Marty, Marty’s body, just as I remembered—</p><p>“<em>Willow, hey</em>,” someone was shaking me awake and I woke up again, seeing Wanda standing over the couch. It was still dark out, and by the time on the stove, it had been less than an hour. Three in the morning. “You were having a nightmare,” she said as I tried to reorient myself and stop shaking. My hands went to my back, checking that my wings were still there and when I felt that they were, I slumped back into the couch exhausted.</p><p>“What are you doing up?” I asked.</p><p>“I was getting a glass of water,” she said and then nodded at the cup of crushed ice. “Is that yours?”</p><p>“Y-yeah,” I said. “Natasha says it can help. I got it when I first came out here.”</p><p>“Here,” said Wanda, and she walked back over to the fridge, dispensing two ice cubes and bringing them back over. “Put your hands out.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Just trust me.” I slowly opened my hands and let her drop an ice cube into each one. “Now squeeze them,” she said. “As hard as you can.”</p><p>I did as she instructed, the cold biting into my hands, and until that was all I could focus on. They melted as I held them, and eventually, I realized I had stopped shaking and panicking, even if the nightmare still felt present. Wanda sat down next to me as I stared at the flickering television, which was currently doing a feature on flamingos, the pink and blue scenery lighting the room in a soft glow. “I’m so tired of these dreams,” I murmured. “I just want to sleep. I don’t… I hate that even though I’m not <em>there </em>anymore, my brain tricks me into thinking I am. It feels the same, even if it’s not real.”</p><p>Wanda was silent for a moment. I drew a shaky breath, wishing I could get the image of Marty’s dead body out of my head. <em>God, will I ever get rid of that? </em>“Can I give you a hug?” Wanda asked. I nodded, trying not to start crying, and she wrapped her arms around me, pulling me in tight. “Shh, you’re going to be all right,” she said.</p><p>“Don’t tell the others,” I said, my voice wavering. “I don’t want to sound stupid. Sorry.”</p><p>“You don’t have to apologize,” she said.</p><p>“I just… knowing that there are people still out there, even if they are in custody…”</p><p>“They’re never going to hurt you again,” Wanda said. “Okay? We’re never going to let that happen.”</p><p>“And Tony said…”</p><p>“It doesn’t matter what Tony said,” Wanda said. “He hardly knows you.”</p><p>I turned back to the TV, trying to focus on anything else, and laying down on the couch, my head resting up against Wanda as I slowly unfolded my wings again and wrapped them around myself. I felt her hand, gentle on my head, her fingers running through my tangled hair nearly lulling me back to sleep on their own.</p><p>“I can take them away if you want,” Wanda murmured. “Just the bad dreams.”</p><p>I turned my neck to look up at her. “What?”</p><p>“It’s one of my abilities,” she said. “I’m able to look into one’s subconscious. Sense it. Manipulate it.”</p><p>“Have you seen mine? The nightmares?”</p><p>“I have,” she said quietly, and then paused. “I’m sorry. I know you probably don’t want another person poking around in your head.”</p><p>To my surprise, I only laid back down and shrugged. “I trust you,” I said slowly. “I’d rather it be someone I trust than HYDRA. The poking around’s already been done.”</p><p>She hummed a little, and I felt her hand return to my head, pressed warmly against my crown, her thumb continuing to stroke my hair. She was gentle, and I almost started crying again, still unaccustomed to the softness of it all, having someone look out for me again. It made me miss Jessica, my other surrogate older sister, even if she was hitting me with the tough love most of the time. <em>Does she know where I am? I wish I left on better terms. I wish I thanked her.</em></p><p>“Okay,” said Wanda. “Shh. Just focus on falling back asleep.”</p><p>At that point, I hardly needed any coaxing and finally slipped off into a dreamless slumber, the music from the documentary gentle in my ear as I sank into the couch with Wanda’s hand on my forehead, the nightmares only a memory. Just a memory.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. One Of The Family</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Willow trains with Sam</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <ul>
<li>
<b>Words: </b>633</li>
<li>
<b>Characters: </b>Willow Wren, Sam Wilson</li>
<li>
<b>Timeline: </b>April 2016</li>
<li>
<b>Song: </b><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BmcH-IGda50">First Flight - Henry Jackman</a>
</li>
<li>
<b>A/N: </b><em>hi sorry im back askjfgj</em>
</li>
</ul><p>—————————————————————————–</p><p>Every time I’m in the sky, it’s like I’m seeing it for the first time again, and today was no different. It was one of the first truly warm days of the spring and I was high above the Compound, diving down to the roof as fast as I could, landing, and then practicing shooting off again. Unlike Sam, I had no mechanics to support me, every bit of lift generated had to be my own, and it meant that most of my takeoffs and landings were clumsy as I tried to find a balance.</p><p>“You can’t put all that pressure on your knees,” Sam said, trying to break the habit. “You have to transfer your momentum, don’t just drop down onto the roof.”</p><p>“How am I supposed to do that?” I asked, shaking out my achy joints.</p><p>“Slow down more, start running when you hit the ground. Then stop. Let’s go again.”</p><p>I sighed and ran for the edge of the roof, jumping back into the air and carrying myself up and over the trees. I was trying to get better at takeoffs too, not relying on a huge running start or a jump off of something, but that would take more time. I’d have to get stronger.</p><p>In the air, though, I could outmaneuver Sam, easily. It was second nature to me, and the only reason I was able to get away when SHIELD came looking for me back in New York City. I could pull off sharp turns, dives, and climbs, shift my body to fit in between buildings or obstacles. Sam and I would race around the Compound in the evening, as the sun set over the water, and I couldn’t help but always show off a little, skimming close to the lake or cutting between tight gaps on the property. My wings were my own, which meant I could maneuver them however I wanted, not relying on technology or controls. I could think, and my wings responded instantaneously.</p><p>“Race you to the hangar!” I yelled over to Sam and I sped up, using gravity to increase my speed as I angled myself towards the quinjets. He gained on me quickly, his own wings giving him way more power, but I folded my wings in closer and narrowed my wingspan, making me even more aerodynamic.</p><p>We reached the hangar at the same time and I took Sam’s advice on landing, giving myself some space to slow down instead of landing right on my knees at high speed. “You’re getting better,” Sam said as I pulled my goggles off of my face, the same ones Fanismo had made for me.</p><p>“You too,” I said, grinning. “Someday you’ll be as good as me.”</p><p>“Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be?”</p><p>“Yup.”</p><p>Sam took off the wings and we finished training for the evening, heading back to the main building. “Hey,” he said. “I bet you could use your wind magic or whatever to go faster. You know? You ever tried anything like that?”</p><p>I shook my head. “Not yet. But I bet I could try.”</p><p>“Friday, then,” Sam said. “We’ll have you going at the speed of sound in no time.”</p><p>We got to the doors and went inside; I could smell food cooking up in the common area and heard voices upstairs. I was amazed at how quickly I had begun to feel at home in this place. And it wasn’t so much the Compound itself, but the people inside it. For the first time, maybe in my life, I didn’t feel like a freak of nature or whatever. “Hey, Sam,” I started. “Do you… uh… think someday I’ll be able to go on missions with you guys?”</p><p>He laughed. “That’s a question for the boss.”</p><p>“Steve?”</p><p>“Nat.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Calm Before The Storm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Willow hangs out with the team before they have to go on a mission</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <ul>
<li>
<b>Words: </b>665</li>
<li>
<b>Characters: </b>Willow Wren, Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, James Rhodes, Vision</li>
<li>
<b>Timeline: </b>May 2016</li>
<li>
<b>Song: </b><a href="https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DQqBzotBqV4g&amp;t=ODBjODY5YTU0ZmI2N2E3YzhiYTAxYTRmNzhjOTgwYmZhZTIzNGFkYixSeXdUQm05dA%3D%3D&amp;b=t%3Ah330fsP_66fAsgU472BqWw&amp;p=https%3A%2F%2Faka-willow.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F627838609412718592%2Fcalm-before-the-storm&amp;m=1&amp;ts=1598753613">Walk Man - TMG</a>
</li>
<li>
<b>A/N: </b><em>sorry for the wait i actually got a job surprise</em>
</li>
</ul><p>—————————————————————————–</p><p>I carefully stacked sugar cubes into my tea, watching each of them dissolve before I added another until the cup was nearly overflowing and then I carefully took a sip from the top. “Good news,” I told Wanda. “If you add enough sugar to tea it starts to taste like coffee.”</p><p>“I’m not really sure how that’s good news,” Wanda said.</p><p>“Remind me again how this was supposed to help?” Rhodey asked from the stove, where he was finishing up scrambled eggs and scooping them onto his plate. “Now you have her hopped up on sugar instead of caffeine.”</p><p>Wanda sighed. “I thought it was a good idea at the time.” And to be fair, it was, but I would be going right back to coffee when they left for their mission in about an hour.</p><p>“I still think I should be allowed to come,” I said, just as Natasha entered the lounge, her arms filled with a stack of files.</p><p>“Dream on, Willow,” Natasha said. “I’ll let you sit in on the briefing though.”</p><p>“Really?” I asked, getting up and following her to the conference room, my cup of tea carefully balanced between my hands. “So where are you guys going?” I sat down in one of the chairs and looked back out into the lounge, where Steve and Sam had just arrived, Sam grabbing a bagel from the counter before heading over to the conference room as well.</p><p>“Nigeria, most populous city,” Natasha said, and I realized she was quizzing me.</p><p>I thought for a moment. “Lagos, right?”</p><p>“So you actually <em>are </em>doing the work I send you,” Natasha said.</p><p>“Only because Vison makes me,” I said, and Natasha’s eyebrows narrowed with mock confusion.</p><p>“What, am I not scary enough?”</p><p>Just as I was about to answer, someone nudged my chair. “You’re in my seat, kid,” Sam said. “VIP only.” I groaned and got up as Sam laughed and placed his bagel down in front of him, sesame seeds falling off his napkin.</p><p>“How do I get to be a VIP?” I asked, sitting in a chair against the wall and rolling it closer to the table with my feet.</p><p>“Hey, you beat me in training, and then we’ll talk.”</p><p>“That’s not fair,” I said, “because Natasha doesn’t let me use my powers for that.”</p><p>“I didn’t say it was going to be fair.”</p><p>I nearly jumped out of my seat as Vision phased through the wall, and Steve entered the room at the same time, shutting the door behind him and turning on the glass screen at the front of the room. “Okay, everyone ready? Awake?”</p><p>I listened as Steve detailed the mission, going in with himself, Natasha, Wanda, and Sam, and felt myself wishing I were going to, even just to get out of the Compound and see something else. The end of the school year was quickly approaching, and I found myself wondering when SHIELD would let me leave. <em>But I don’t really want to leave. I just want to be able to see my friends. See the city again.</em></p><p>I was wondering what the Lab Rats were up to, if they even knew what went down in Dulce and that we were free now. The book was gone. Dr. Turner was being put away. I had found one of Dew’s music videos on Youtube and nearly signed in to contact him that way but thought better of it. <em>No contact. </em>That had been the rule.</p><p>“Part of this mission will involve keeping a low profile and waiting them out,” Steve said. “Wanda, this will be good practice for what you’ve been working on with Nat.”</p><p>As Steve finished up his briefing, the others began asking questions and I looked over at Wanda, who smiled back at me. I took another sip of the tea she had made and tried not to make a face. <em>I probably could have put in even more sugar. Or cream. No, what I need is coffee.</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Lagos</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Willow and the Avengers at the Compound hear about the news in Lagos</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <ul>
<li>
<b>Words: </b>787</li>
<li>
<b>Characters: </b>Willow Wren, Vision, James Rhodes</li>
<li>
<b>Timeline: </b>May 2016</li>
<li>
<b>Song: </b><a href="https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3Dz3F7EhGa8Tc&amp;t=MTFiNDk4ZWMwNWE5ZjIzZmFjMDZiOGMyYzE5ZjY1MzRhMDdkZTQ2Ziw2ME90c05WYg%3D%3D&amp;b=t%3Ah330fsP_66fAsgU472BqWw&amp;p=https%3A%2F%2Faka-willow.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F629025084327215105%2Flagos&amp;m=1&amp;ts=1599885071">Lagos - Henry Jackman</a>
</li>
<li>
<b>A/N: </b><em>sorry this took forever and isn’t even that good; i’m still adjusting to working full time lmao</em>
</li>
</ul><p>—————————————————————————–</p><p>I was working on my homework in the lounge, Vision across from me at the table, and Rhodey at the counter in the kitchen, working on an early dinner. “Do I get a share of the early bird special?” I asked, looking up from the laptop.</p><p>“Not with that comment you don’t,” Rhodey said.</p><p>I frowned and looked back at my work, trying to make sense of the same math problem I had been working on with Vision for half an hour. “At least HYDRA didn’t make me do this shit,” I mumbled. “Even they drew the line at polynomials. Said <em>nah that’s way too fucked up to make a kid do.</em>”</p><p>“Hey,” Rhodey said from the kitchen counter. “How do we know that you’re not still…” He pointed up to his head while something sizzled in a pan on the stove. He had put the spatula he was using down and had focused his attention on me.</p><p>“Who? HYDRA? I was kidding.”</p><p>“No, no, I know… I’m just wondering… how do we know that… you know… you’re not still being controlled by them?”</p><p>“Pretty sure that’s why they sent me here,” I said. “If anyone would know, it would be with the girl who reads minds and the people who can kick my ass before I even make it to the door.” It stung a little, hearing this question because it was the same question I had asked myself over and over. And Steve said I was okay, that I had passed SHIELD’s psychological evaluations and had broken out of their control on my own accord, but still. Hearing someone else ask the question made it real. Like I wasn’t the only one who wondered it. “They gave us too much time to think back at the Facility,” I said. “You start to ask questions after a while. Even if you’re not programmed to.”</p><p>“That’s fair,” Rhodey said, shrugging. “I was just curious what you thought.”</p><p>I gave Vision an awkward look and tapped my pencil against the notebook. “Anyways…”</p><p>“Hold on,” said Rhodey, interrupting us again. “Hey, I’m getting an alert from the team.”</p><p>“What does it say?” He didn’t respond but strode over to the coffee table and picked up the television remote, clicking on the TV. I pushed my chair back and stood up, following him over to the screen. “What’s going on?”</p><p>“There was an incident in Lagos,” Rhodey said. “I’m trying to see if there’s any news. Steve’s slow to respond right now.”</p><p>“What kind of incident? Are they okay? Did someone get hurt?”</p><p>“Here it is,” Rhodey said, finding WHIH, the screen filled with the image of a collapsing building, people being evacuated, dust filling the air. “My God.”</p><p>I watched with my face slack as they played the same few clips over and over. They had a reporter on the scene, phoning in, and when he mentioned the Avengers being on the scene, I couldn’t help but start pacing, especially as they began mentioning names. <em>This is bad. This is bad, right? </em>When I dared to look back at the screen, the anchor was announcing breaking news in from Washington as President Ellis prepared to speak.</p><p>“Has this happened before?” I asked Rhodey. “Like, this is bad right?” He shushed me as the president began speaking and we watched in silence.</p><p>
  <em>Good evening ladies and gentlemen. I’ve just been briefed on the developing situation in Lagos, Nigeria. Secretary Ross has contacted their president and assured him that we will do whatever it takes to support our friend and ally. It is crucial that we unite and stand together to ensure that peace and security prevail over chaos and fear. In the coming days my administration will work directly with the United Nations to find the people responsible for this catastrophe and hold them accountable to the full extent of the law. With courage, and with compassion, the international community will help support Lagos during their time of need.</em>
</p><p>When it cut away, the anchors began arguing about the Avengers, and I heard one of them mentioning superheroes having to report to the government. “Look, kid, you’re making <em>me </em>nervous with all the pacing,” Rhodey said. “You gotta calm down.”</p><p>“Sorry.”</p><p>“This… this isn’t good, though,” he said, his hand on his chin as he spoke. “We’ll have to wait until they come home. No use worrying until then.”</p><p>“Did they say we’d have to report to the government?”</p><p>“I wouldn’t sweat it, you’re not a hero yet,” Rhodey said, shutting off the television with a sigh. “Those are just talk show pundits. What they say doesn’t matter.”</p><p>“Come on,” Vision said. “Let’s finish your work before they get back.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Misunderstood</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Willow talks with Wanda after the incident in Lagos</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <ul>
<li>
<b>Words: </b>924</li>
<li>
<b>Characters: </b>Willow Wren, Wanda Maximoff</li>
<li>
<b>Timeline: </b>May 2016</li>
<li>
<b>Song: </b><a href="https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DE7zgNye6HTE&amp;t=MjMzZjRjYzI4ZjRmZTM2Yjk0MmE1YjMxNDNkODQ1YThlOWU4ZGVlNixiTGFGVWJSNQ%3D%3D&amp;b=t%3Ah330fsP_66fAsgU472BqWw&amp;p=https%3A%2F%2Faka-willow.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F629755294362271744%2Fmisunderstood&amp;m=1&amp;ts=1600581454">Ne me quitte pas - Jacques Brel</a>
</li>
<li>
<b>A/N: </b><em>anyone else ridiculously hyped for WandaVision??!</em>
</li>
</ul><p>—————————————————————————–</p><p>“I brought you some tea,” I said, standing in the doorway of Wanda’s room, holding the cup in my hand. “I thought you might want some?” It was after dinner, and she had already disappeared back into her room for the night.</p><p>Wanda sighed, looking away from the TV as she sat on her bed, where she had spent most of her time in the day since Lagos. “Oh, thanks, Willow.” I walked across the room and handed her the cup, careful so not to spill it. “I appreciate it.” She ran her hand through her hair and continued to stare at the TV while I stood next to her, finally cautiously sitting down on the bed next to her. I was sure she would ask me to leave, but she didn’t.</p><p>“Is this the news?” I asked, which was a stupid question because it was obviously the news, and it was obviously coverage from Lagos.</p><p>“Mm-hm.”</p><p>Natasha had told me what happened before training that morning, but I still didn’t know what to say, or if I should say anything at all. “I’ll leave,” I said. “Um… I just wanted to bring you the tea.” I slid off the bed and stood up, stretching my arms and wings as I did so. I had just showered, and my wet hair chilled the back of my wings as it dried.</p><p>Wanda looked over at me and away from the TV as she took a sip from the tea. “You know, right? You know what it’s like to not be able to fully control your powers.”</p><p>I nodded. “I mean, it’s because of you I can at all. Before I came here…”</p><p>“Hmm.”</p><p>“Natasha says it’s not your fault,” I said, watching as the news played the same clip over and over.</p><p>“That’s not what everyone else thinks.”</p><p>I sat back down, picking at my cuticles as the news commentators argued in the background. “My friend said that this channel is super biased,” I said. “She did a report on it. So, I wouldn’t pay attention to them.”</p><p>“Maybe I’ll put on Fox News instead.”</p><p>“Oh, I probably wouldn’t do that.”</p><p>Wanda gave me a nudge and shook her head. “I’m kidding.”</p><p>“Sorry,” I said. “I’m not really good at making people feel better.”</p><p>“That’s all right,” Wanda said. “I know you care.” I stopped when she said this, never hearing it before. <em>I know you care. People think that about me? They don’t think I’m—you know—the way HYDRA made me be?</em></p><p>“Can we watch something else?” I asked. “They’re playing the same clip; it’s boring.” <em>We should probably put something else on. Anything else. This isn’t helping.</em></p><p>“Mmm,” Wanda said, picking up the remote. “What do you want?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” I said, flopping down to lay across the bed. “Something funny. And <em>not </em>Family Guy.”</p><p>“What do you have against Family Guy?” Wanda asked as she shuffled through the other channels. “You’re like… thirteen, right? Isn’t that…”</p><p>“Exactly,” I said. “It’s for thirteen-year-olds.”</p><p>Wanda laughed. “And you think you’re better than other thirteen-year-olds?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>She stopped scrolling for a second and looked down at me. “Okay. So, what do you want to watch?”</p><p>“You pick,” I said. “Anything but the news.” After sorting through a few more channels, Wanda paused on MTV, and I held up my hand, tapping her arm to stop her. “Wait, this is good,” I said. “You get to find out if the guy is getting catfished or not.”</p><p>“This is what you like?” Wanda asked.</p><p>“It’s about the drama of it!” I said. “Trust me, it gets good. And I think this one is from like last night so it’s <em>new.</em>” The sun set on the Avengers Compound and we settled in to watch the <em>Catfish </em>marathon for the night, and Wanda didn’t say anything else about Lagos until one of the commercial breaks, as I felt myself starting to doze off.</p><p>“Do you…” she started and then sighed. “When you got your powers, were you scared of them?”</p><p>“Still am,” I said, barely opening my eyes. “Before I got here and after Ma—my friend died—it got really bad. By the time Natasha found me… I didn’t think I should be here at all.”</p><p>“I know how that feels,” Wanda said. “And if we’re afraid of our own power, what are other people thinking? And how do we know the limits?”</p><p>I shrugged, too tired from training that day to think about anything else. “We’re not afraid,” I said, finally. “Screw what those other people say. They don’t know you.”</p><p>“But they’re still scared,” she said. “It doesn’t matter.” I thought back to the kids at Mr. Lindsey’s house, an event that almost felt like a dream, and yet I could still feel the way my own powers had surged out of me, how vulnerable I was at that moment.</p><p>“You know who’s a bad guy?” I asked, deflecting. “This catfish Courtney who says she can talk to dead people.” I opened my eyes and Wanda smiled for a moment, before returning to a frown, still deep in thought. “I bet you could talk to Steve or someone,” I offered. “Maybe they can help.”</p><p>At that moment, her phone buzzed, and she looked down at it. “Natasha is checking to make sure you went to bed,” she said. “Says you have training bright and early tomorrow.”</p><p>“Shh,” I said, glad the conversation had changed, even just for the moment. “Don’t tell her I’m here.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. The Weird Kids</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lagos coverage continues to plague those at the Compound</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <ul>
<li>
<b>Words: </b>826</li>
<li>
<b>Characters: </b>Willow Wren, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff</li>
<li>
<b>Timeline: </b>June 2016</li>
<li>
<b>Song: </b><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9RBzsjga73s">Tilted - Christine and the Queens</a>
</li>
<li>
<b>A/N: </b><em>ahhh the girlsss</em>
</li>
</ul><p>—————————————————————————–</p><p>The news seemed extra loud that night as I finished homework in the lounge, while Rhodey flipped between channels and Natasha and Wanda had a quiet conversation at the counter while they prepared dinners. For weeks, the event in Lagos seemed to have dominated the news, and as coverage turned to the regulation of enhanced people, people like me, I was starting to get more nervous. High school finals were hard enough without the threat of the government swooping in at any moment. For the first time in my life, I was ahead in school, almost finished a few weeks early, besides a few assignments my teachers hadn’t prepared and sent over yet.</p><p>I sighed and turned back to the Spanish essay I was trying to finish—a two-page analysis of a series of short stories we had read. I had been stalling turning it in for about ten minutes, playing around with the title formatting to pass the time. It was the best I could do—but it didn’t seem good enough. I was sure it was riddled with mistakes, even if I had tried translating it back to English to catch the bigger ones.</p><p>“Natasha?” I called, taking out an earbud. “You speak Spanish, right?”</p><p>“Si,” she said, looking up from her conversation with Wanda. “Why?”</p><p>“Uh… would you mind reading my essay really quick?” I asked. “It’s just two pages. I need to know if it makes sense.”</p><p>“Yeah, bring it over here.” I picked up the laptop and brought it over to the counter, setting it down in front of Natasha, watching nervously as she scanned through it. “Looks good,” she said finally. “Just watch out for your accents. You’re all over the place.”</p><p>I exhaled a sigh of relief and shut the lid of my laptop. “Thanks. I’ll fix those later. Can’t believe this is my last paper of the year. Hopefully.”</p><p>“Don’t worry,” Natasha responded, turning around to turn one of the ovens on. “I’ll find stuff for you to do.”</p><p>“I know,” I sighed, which earned a small laugh from Wanda.</p><p>“Wish they’d talk about something else on the news,” she said, as coverage on the TV behind us continued talking about <em>the enhanced threat, </em>something that seemed to have been dominating the news cycle ever since Lagos. Between that, and the Inhuman stuff I kept seeing in the limited news I was consuming while grounded at the Compound, both Wanda and I seemed to be especially on edge.</p><p>“Sounds like straight Watchdog propaganda,” I said. “It’s like they’re not even trying to hide it.”</p><p>Wanda shook her head, playing with the rings on her fingers, pulling one off and putting it back on, spinning it around her index finger. “I had a friend from before what happened… happened. I tried to reach out to them, for help, when we got away from HYDRA and they wanted nothing to do with us. The minute they realized my brother and I had abilities; ten years… all gone.”</p><p>Natasha turned back around, leaning against the counter as she gave Wanda a sympathetic smile. I shut my eyes and tugged at a hangnail. “Sounds like my friend Kate,” I said. “We were like best friends and she even loves all that paranormal stuff. Then she found out about... me... and that was it.”</p><p>“People fear what they don’t understand,” Natasha said, nodding and crossing her arms. “It’s not your fault.”</p><p>“Yeah. But I thought she’d be different,” I said. “But she ghosted me after... that night when everything happened. Didn’t see her until the funeral and she said she didn’t want to be friends anymore. That she couldn’t. And like... I know it’s just one person. But that’s how she sees me, and she knew me.”</p><p>“I know how that feels,” Wanda said quietly.</p><p>“It’s not fair,” I mumbled, looking back at the television. “You know I always thought that if one day, there was a pill or something I could take that would make me normal…” I pulled the hangnail out, letting a thin sliver of blood begin to run in the valley next to my nail bed. “I would probably do it.”</p><p>“Willow!” Natasha admonished, softly, but with a force behind it.</p><p>“What?” I said, shrugging. “It’s true.”</p><p>“Don’t say that,” Natasha said, stepping over to where Wanda and I were sitting. “There is nothing wrong with you. Either of you. Do you understand?” I stared down and swallowed, glancing over at Wanda, who was nodding. “Willow?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” I said.</p><p>Natasha leaned over the counter to look me in the eye. “You don’t need to change yourself for them.” She reached out, hesitantly, before placing a hand on my shoulder and gently rubbing my left wing with her fingers. And, for maybe the first time, I didn’t pull away. It was soothing, and somehow, all the fire behind my previous statement left me. “You love flying, right?”</p><p>“More than anything,” I said.</p><p>“Then it doesn’t matter what anyone else says. Okay?”</p><p>“Okay.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Consequences</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Steve and Wanda discuss the fallout of Lagos. Also thank you to mahiru72 for the kudos!! I really appreciate it and waking up to my first kudos on this story made me so happy!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <ul>
<li>
<b>Words: </b>651</li>
<li>
<b>Characters: </b>Willow Wren, Wanda Maximoff, Steve Rogers, Vision</li>
<li>
<b>Timeline: </b>June 2016</li>
<li>
<b>Song: </b><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cWZDxy1na80">Consequences - Henry Jackman</a>
</li>
<li>
<b>A/N: </b><em>writing this as i watch trump covid coverage lmao</em>
</li>
</ul><p>—————————————————————————–</p><p>Wanda was watching the news again, another story about Lagos, and even though I tried to convince her to turn it off, to have us do something else, something fun before the meeting later, she shushed me. “I want to hear what they have to say,” she said.</p><p>I sat on the floor, my back up against the bed as I built small card towers with a pack of playing cards I had found on her bureau and then practiced knocking down small sections with my powers. “It doesn’t matter what they say.” I heard the words <em>enhanced individual </em>and turned away from the TV, feeling slightly queasy at their tone, just as the TV suddenly clicked off and I turned to see Steve standing in the doorway.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s my fault,” Wanda said.</p><p>“That’s not true.”</p><p>I knocked the last portion of my card house down, my eyes on Steve as nodded in greeting, while Wanda shook her head. “Turn the TV back on; they’re being <em>very</em> specific.”</p><p>“I should have clocked that bomb vest long before you had to deal with it,” Steve said, crossing the room. “Rumlow said <em>Bucky </em>and… all of the sudden I was a sixteen-year-old kid again in Brooklyn.” I cast my eyes down at the mention of Bucky, the chill of remembering that only a few years ago, I was a cog in HYDRA’s weaponry, too. I didn’t know much, most of it Natasha had told me, especially when I started asking questions about their own encounters with HYDRA.</p><p>Steve sat down with a sigh on the bed. “People died. That’s on me.” He looked at both of us before crossing his hands, staring down at the grey carpet, his jaw clenched.</p><p>“It’s on both of us,” Wanda said.</p><p>“This job… we try to save as many people as we can. Sometimes that doesn’t mean everybody. But if we can’t find a way to live with that, next time, maybe nobody gets saved.” I felt my breath hitch and Steve offered us a sympathetic smile, studying Wanda’s expression as she took it in.</p><p>I stayed silent as I gathered up the playing cards, wishing I could say something helpful like Steve, wishing I could make Wanda feel better. A whooshing noise startled me and the cards slipped out of my hand as we all turned to look through the far wall, the one that Vision had just phased through.</p><p>“Viz,” Wanda scolded. “We talked about this.”</p><p>“Yes, but the door was open, so I assumed that…” He trailed off as we stared at him. “Captain Rogers wished to know when Mr. Stark was arriving.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Steve said. “We’ll be right down.”</p><p>Vision nodded and pointed. “I’ll… use the door.” Wanda and I exchanged small smiles, the tension breaking just a little, even as I mouthed to her <em>“Mr. Stark?</em>”</p><p>“Oh, and apparently he’s brought a guest,” Vision continued.</p><p>“You know who it is?” Steve asked.</p><p>Vision tilted his head. “The Secretary of State.”</p><p>I exhaled a gasp, confused, just loud enough for Wanda to hear as Steve got up. “That can’t be good news,” she said. “Secretary Ross being here?”</p><p>“Let’s just see what he has to say,” Steve told us, pausing as he stood in the middle of the room to think. “Willow… let’s see where Nat wants you.”</p><p>Wanda saw the expression on my face, even as I tried to hide it and place her cards back. “What?”</p><p>“I think I’ve met the Secretary of State before,” I said, realization dawning. “I punched him and stole his SUV… one time.”</p><p>Wanda shut her eyes. “Steve, she shouldn’t be there. If Ross finds out that we have another…”</p><p>“No…” Steve sighed. “In that case…” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “We need to be transparent. It’ll be worse if it seems like we’re hiding her. Both of you, come on.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. One Way Or Another</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Willow sits out while the Accords are presented to the Avengers</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <ul>
<li>
<b>Words: </b>874</li>
<li>
<b>Characters: </b>Willow Wren, Wanda Maximoff, Thaddeus Ross, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers</li>
<li>
<b>Timeline: </b>June 2016</li>
<li>
<b>Song: </b><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=valVixMpzQY">One Way or Another - Blondie</a>
</li>
<li>
<b>A/N: </b><em>hi everyone thank you for the lovely comments + kudos on ao3!! totally unexpected and made my day!!</em>
</li>
</ul><p>—————————————————————————–</p><p>Everyone else was already gathered in the lounge by the time Steve, Wanda, and I got there, and I hesitated when I saw men in suits standing around the room, and Thaddeus Ross in the center of them, talking with Tony Stark. <em>Ah, beans.</em></p><p>While Steve went to go speak with them, I hung back with Wanda, who seemed equally as concerned. <em>Ross was involved in the military project when we were kids. Before HYDRA took over. He was there. What’s he doing here now?</em></p><p>“Hey,” Natasha said, coming over to us, her voice low. “Wanda, you can go sit down in the conference room. Sam’s already in there. Willow…”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Can you just sit tight in here?”</p><p>“Sure, I—”</p><p>“I didn’t know you picked up someone new,” a voice suddenly said, interrupting the conversation. I looked past Natasha to see Secretary Ross walking towards us. “Who is this?”</p><p>The long sweater I had thrown on before heading over, tossed to me from Wanda’s wardrobe, suddenly felt extra heavy on my wings, and my wings felt as if they were squeezing my spine. I looked to Natasha for an answer, who put on a casual smile, as she nodded at me. “Secretary Ross, this is Willow.” She paused. “Willow is doing a S.H.I.E.L.D. internship here.”</p><p>Secretary Ross held out his hand, and it took everything I had learned in the last few months, all of the self-control from Wanda’s training, to prevent even the smallest gust of wind from spitting from my hand in my panic. I shook his hand and looked down at my shoes, one of them untied. “Hi.”</p><p>“Must be exciting,” Secretary Ross said, “having an internship that lets you work with the Avengers, huh?”</p><p>“Uh yeah,” I said. “It’s fun.”</p><p>“What grade are you in?”</p><p>“Just finished ninth grade. At Midtown School of Science and Technology. But I’m… um… remote learning this semester so I could work here, too.”</p><p>“I don’t know how you find them, Miss Romanoff,” the Secretary said. He chuckled. “She’ll be doing my job someday.”</p><p>
  <em>Yeah… I’m gonna place a fat bet that’ll be a no.</em>
</p><p>“Maybe so,” Natasha said, giving my shoulder a quick squeeze as she pointed the Secretary to the conference room. “Why don’t we get going?” she said to him. “You can set up in there.”</p><p>The rest of the Avengers filtered into the conference room, I briefly made eye contact with Tony Stark as I sat down at the kitchen counter, putting in my headphones and cranking the volume on the iPod Natasha had finally let me get my hands on. As they continued to chatter in the conference room, I went through the motions of making a cup of coffee, trying to remember the steps that Sam had taught me, before sitting back on one of the bar stools and turning off the music, leaving my headphones in.</p><p>I could hear the conversation now, clear as day, even with my back to it. Secretary Ross was speaking over some sort of news coverage, a few events I didn’t recognize, and then something from Sokovia. Something from Lagos. I dared to take a quick glimpse behind me before he shut it off and saw the grim expressions of everyone in the room.</p><p><em>“The Sokovia Accords.”  </em>I heard the words as the document was plopped onto the table. “<em>It states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organization.”</em></p><p>I felt my stomach drop to the floor, felt a cold sweat trickling its way down my back as I forced myself to not turn around at watch. <em>What does that mean? Are they taking over? </em>I opened up the internet browser and typed the words in, finding the entire thing as a PDF on an internet forum. I started scrolling, reading as fast as I could, pulling out any keywords I could from the legalese until I hit a section on <em>enhanced registration.</em></p><p>
  <em>DNA samples. Tracking. A database. Disclosure of secret identities.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>This would be apocalyptic for the Lab Rats. Anyone like us. Hell, if we don’t turn ourselves into collaborators of those who made us, does that makes us criminals? More than we already are? What about Peter?</em>
</p><p>“<em>And if we come to a decision that you don’t like?” </em>I heard Natasha ask as the Secretary’s footsteps moved back towards the conference room door.</p><p>“<em>Then you retire.”</em></p><p>It took all of my willpower to stay in the seat, to not run now. <em>They wouldn’t let anything happen to you. You’re supposed to be safe here. </em>I looked back at Secretary Ross as he exited the conference room and climbed down off the stool, heading for the bathroom. I could feel myself panicking, even as I tried to get a grip. <em>You don’t have all the information yet.</em></p><p><em>I have enough information. The same government that fucked you over as a kid wants you back in their arsenal. </em>It seemed clear to me. I pulled out the iPod and went to pull up Fanisimo’s Instagram, signing in to my account for the first time in months, navigating to his profile.</p><p>But even as I clicked on it, planning out the message in my head, something felt wrong.</p><p>
  <em>User not found.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. According to Willow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Avengers argue about the proposed Accords</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <ul>
<li>
<b>Words: </b>2729</li>
<li>
<b>Characters: </b>Willow Wren, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff, Vision, Sam Wilson, James Rhodes</li>
<li>
<b>Timeline: </b>June 2016</li>
<li>
<b>Song: </b><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rKI4b455L38">Adagio (Bonus Track) - Henry Jackman</a>
</li>
<li>
<b>A/N: </b><em>yes i am anti-accords, no do not @ me i have a splitting headache as i post this</em>
</li>
</ul><p>—————————————————————————–</p><p>When I returned to the lounge, still reeling from the fact that I hadn’t been able to find <em>any </em>of the Lab Rats on social media, as if they had just disappeared, the Secretary had left, and the Avengers were arguing amongst themselves. I stood by the kitchen counter until Natasha waved me over. “Come sit, Willow.”</p><p>I took a seat next to Wanda and we exchanged a look, one that seemed to convey the collective unease both of us were feeling. “They can’t be serious about this,” I said to Wanda, as Rhodey and Sam began to dominate the conversation. “I mean… forget the whole Avengers part, I read it, and for <em>any</em> enhanced person? It would be…” I struggled to find the words. “The registration alone would…”</p><p>“Hey, since when does Rock and Roll All Nite here get a say?” Tony asked Natasha, and I looked at him, confused, and slightly ticked off.</p><p>“It affects anyone like me,” I shot back.</p><p>“Oh, anyone like you, huh?” He paused. “If I remember correctly, the last time you were unsupervised, you were running around New York City, in face paint, on a killing spree.” I shrunk back a little, even as I tried to keep up a wall, and bumped into Wanda’s hand, steadying me. “I think maybe you and your undeveloped frontal lobe should stay out of this. That’s all.”</p><p>Natasha shot Tony a look and I watched as Steve continued to flip through the Accords document, scanning every page carefully. “Yeah, well maybe this is fine for you because you chose that whole Iron Man thing,” I said. “I didn’t get a choice. The other kids I grew up with didn’t get a choice either, and this whole thing puts them in danger, too.”</p><p>“Sorry, there were others like you?” Tony asked, not even moving his head as he leaned back onto the seat and side-eyed me. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” He looked at Natasha. “Do we know where they are?”</p><p>“This is the first I’m hearing about it,” Natasha said, her face solemn as she stared me down.</p><p>“Well, sorry if I didn’t want to say anything before,” I said. “Because this is the exact sort of thing I was worried about.”</p><p>“How many?” Tony asked.</p><p>“How many what?”</p><p>“Little HYDRA River Tams,” Tony said, gesturing with his hand.</p><p>“There were twelve of us,” I said, crinkling my nose at the unfamiliar reference. “And we could kick your ass any day of the week, no tech needed.”</p><p>“Was that a threat?” Tony asked Natasha, and I rolled my eyes. “Because that sounded like a threat.”</p><p>“Willow,” Natasha warned, shaking her head. Tony sighed and put his hand over his face, shutting his eyes, and the look Natasha gave me was enough to get me to stop talking. Her, Wanda, and Vision spoke quietly among themselves while Rhodey and Sam continued to fight, their voices getting louder and louder.</p><p>“I’m done answering to another government,” Sam said, crossing his arms. “You’re telling me that Secretary Ross knows better than we do? Look, I’ve seen some shit—it was just two years ago that HYDRA—”</p><p>“Secretary Ross has a Congressional Medal of Honor, which is one more than you have,” Rhodey interrupted. I picked at the nail polish on my thumb, itching to say something, knowing that I’d just be digging myself into a deeper hole.</p><p>“So, let's say we agree to this thing,” Sam said. “How long is it gonna be before they LoJack us like a bunch of common criminals?” <em>Exactly, </em>I thought. <em>I’d give it less than a year.</em></p><p>“A hundred and seventeen countries want to sign this. A hundred and seventeen, Sam, and you're just like, <em>no, that's cool. We got it.</em>"</p><p>“How long are you going to play both sides?” Sam asked, and even though he was still smiling, it didn’t quite feel like a friendly conversation anymore.</p><p>“I have an equation,” Vision said suddenly, causing me to jump, almost forgetting that he was sitting right there.</p><p>“Oh, this will clear it up,” Sam said, as he turned to look at Vision. <em>I don’t get why we need this whole debate. It’s an obvious decision. They need the Avengers, what is Ross just going to tell them ‘no thanks, never mind you can retire’? It doesn’t make sense.</em></p><p>“In the eight years since Mr. Stark announced himself as Iron Man,” Vision started, “The number of known enhanced persons has grown exponentially. And during the same period, the number of potentially world-ending events has risen at a commensurate rate.”</p><p>“Are you saying it's our fault?” Steve asked.</p><p>“I'm saying there may be a causality. Our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict . . . breeds catastrophe. Oversight . . . oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand.”</p><p>“Boom,” Rhodey said, gesturing at Vision and turning back to Sam, as I still tried to make sense of what Vision said. <em>Make it make sense. Go ahead. Someone.</em></p><p>Tony hadn’t moved from his position on the couch, his hand still over his face. I almost didn’t want to hear what he had to say, the conversation was moving fast enough as it was, and he was right, I didn’t have a say in this matter. I would almost rather hear about the Accords passing through some news bulletin on my phone, rather than being right in the middle of the debate, where someone still had the power to still change the future, but not me. “Tony?” Natasha asked, and he removed his hand from his face to look at her. “You are being uncharacteristically non-hyper-verbal.”</p><p>“It's because he's already made up his mind,” Steve said, and I knew he was right. He had made up his mind before even arriving.</p><p>“Boy, you know me so well,” Tony said, getting up and rubbing the back of his head, wincing, and shutting his eyes for a moment. “Actually, I'm nursing an electromagnetic headache.” He walked over to the kitchen and pulled a drying coffee mug from next to the sink. “That's what's going on, Cap. It's just pain. It's discomfort.” He paused for a moment. “Who's putting coffee grounds in the disposal?” he asked, slamming something down in the sink and turning to address all of us. “Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?” He looked directly at me as he said it, and I, in turn, looked at Wanda, who was also staring at me.</p><p>Tony set his phone down in a basket on the counter, tapping it so that an image popped up of some kid, probably a few years older than me. We waited for an explanation as Tony turned away to continue making his coffee, before turning back at his phone and pretending to be surprised by the image. “Oh, that's Charles Spencer, by the way,” Tony said, pointing at him. “He's a great kid. Computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA. Had a floor level gig at Intel planned for the fall. But first, he wanted to put a few miles on his soul before he parked it behind a desk. See the world. Maybe be of service.”</p><p>I didn’t know where Tony was going and I looked away from the photo, wishing that I could get up and leave now, wishing that I hadn’t returned to this conversation. Of course, Natasha would have made me be there, but… somehow. Somehow, I wished I were anywhere but there. “Charlie didn't want to go to Vegas or Fort Lauderdale, which is what I would do,” Tony continued. “He didn't go to Paris or Amsterdam, which sounds fun. He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the poor. Guess where? Sokovia.” The last word was punctuated with a snapping noise as he finished his coffee. I remembered the news from last summer, standing in the kitchen with Marty early in the morning, watching the city rise from the ground. Marty on the phone with Annabel, in a panic. I sometimes forgot that these guys were there. It was real.</p><p>“He wanted to make a difference; I suppose. I mean, we won't know because we dropped a building on him while we were kicking ass.” He popped a pill before taking a sip of his coffee and walking out from behind the counter. “There's no decision-making process here.” Tony said it as if this was the final word any of us had, as if it was the only logical path to follow. “We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes, I'm game. If we can't accept limitations, if we're boundary-less, we're no better than the bad guys.” The force behind his words made my stomach sink and I flinched, as if somehow Sokovia was my fault, too, as if I had been there on the ground as well. <em>But I have, haven’t I? How many Sokovias have you been a part of? How many other Charles Spencers were in your wake? You don’t even know, do you?</em></p><p>“Tony, someone dies on your watch, you don't give up,” Steve said.</p><p>“Who said we're giving up?”</p><p>“We are if we're not taking responsibility for our actions,” said Steve. “This document just shifts the blame.” <em>To blame who, then? The government? I’d be okay with them taking the blame. </em>It was then I realized that somehow, Tony had me thinking on his wavelength now, and I shook my head as if to dispel the thought. <em>No, I’m supposed to take the blame for what I do. That’s what Jessica taught me. Natasha taught me. Even Marty. Marty always held me accountable.</em></p><p>
  <em>I don’t mind accountability. Tony’s right, in that way. But this isn’t the way to do it. The government telling us what to do means nothing. It’s worse. That’s like asking an undercover HYDRA agent to make sure that there are no HYDRA scientists in his facility. Doesn’t do shit. And, in this case, I’m still not sure HYDRA isn’t behind this. They would love to get their hands on this list.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I don’t exactly trust governments right now.</em>
</p><p>“I’m sorry, Steve,” Rhodey said. “That - that is dangerously arrogant. This is the United Nations we're talking about. It's not the World Security Council, it's not SHIELD, it's not HYDRA.”</p><p>“What’s the difference?” I mumbled, just loud enough for those sitting next to me to hear.</p><p>“No, but it's run by people with agendas, and agendas change,” Steve told him. He spoke almost as forcefully as Tony, and I realized Steve’s mind had already been made up a long time ago as well.</p><p>“That's good,” Tony said. “That's why I'm here. When I realized what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands, I shut it down and stop manufacturing.”</p><p>“Tony, you <em>chose</em> to do that,” Steve said. “If we sign this, we surrender our right to choose. What if this panel sends us somewhere and we don't think we should go? What if there is somewhere we need to go, and they don't let us? We may not be perfect, but the safest hands are still our own.” I watched Natasha, hoping that she’d offer some sort of sway one way or another, but she was still quiet, just listening.</p><p>“If we don't do this now, it's gonna be done to us later,” Tony said. “That's the fact. That won't be pretty.” He looked at Wanda and me as he said this, and now, it seemed like my earlier threat was coming back around, him reminding us that neither of us was here truly legitimately, that Wanda and I were one fuck-up away from prison cells.</p><p>Wanda seemed to get the cue, too. “You're saying they'll come for me,” she said. “For Willow.”</p><p>“We would protect you,” Vision assured her, but somehow, it didn’t help.</p><p>“Natasha?” I asked, daring to speak. “Come on, you can’t seriously…” I shook my head, silently pleading with her to take Steve’s side.</p><p>She sighed. “Maybe Tony's right. If we have one hand on the wheel, we can still steer. If we take it off—"</p><p>“What—” I started.</p><p>“Aren't you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?” Sam asked.</p><p>“I'm just . . . I'm reading the terrain. We have made . . . some very public mistakes. We need to win their trust back.”</p><p>“But it’s more than just trust,” I said.</p><p>“Focus up,” Tony interrupted, pointing at Natasha. “I'm sorry, did I just mishear you or did you agree with me?”</p><p>“Oh, I want to take it back now,” Natasha said, just as I heard Steve’s phone beginning to buzz in his pocket.</p><p>“No, no, no,” Tony said. “You can't retract it. Thank you. Unprecedented. Okay, case closed—I win.”</p><p>“I have to go,” Steve said suddenly, getting up and dropping the Accords onto the table. We watched him silently. The door to the stairs slammed behind him as he left. <em>What now?</em></p><p>“So, I can expect everyone’s signatures on this?” Tony asked, picking up the Accords from where Steve had left them. “We all in agreement?”</p><p>“No way, man,” Sam mumbled.</p><p>“Sam—” Rhodey began, holding his hands, looking exasperated.</p><p>“It’s more than trust,” I said, repeating my words from earlier. “This sets a… what’s the word?”</p><p>“Precedent?” Wanda whispered, pulling the word I had heard Tony use just moments before.</p><p>“That,” I said, nodding. “This is bigger than just you guys. I mean, any enhanced person…”</p><p>“Yeah, well, like it or not, kid, these Accords are getting passed with or without us,” Tony said. “So, either these guys get on board, or we’re getting boarded. There’s already a registration. Tracking of other enhanced people. You didn’t think that’s already happening? Where do you think I read up on you?”</p><p>“But I was Indexed because they found me. This is saying that any enhanced person that’s not registered… is… illegal.”</p><p>“That’s a wild exaggeration,” Tony said. “Who’s schooling her again? It’s illegal <em>if you break the law. If you try to go overseas and blow some shit up for the greater good.</em>”</p><p>“So, what, I have powers and I’m not supposed to use them?” I ask. “I see some old lady getting mugged on the E train and I just have to go <em>no sorry, not today</em>? <em>Let me consult with the president first?</em>”</p><p>“That’s exactly what you’re supposed to do,” Tony said. I looked at Natasha for help, but she just shook her head. <em>You got into an argument with Tony, you’re on your own for this one.</em></p><p>“I mean, she has a point,” Sam said, and I thanked him with a weak smile. “Where does it end? Who gets the registration lists? Where do they draw the line of who goes on them? This sets up a dangerous standard for any future relations with enhanced individuals.”</p><p>“So maybe we push for amendments,” Natasha said. “This is a start. It keeps us together, for now.”</p><p><em>Or they don’t sign and ask for the amendments first. </em>“We can’t give them an inch,” I muttered.</p><p>“Once they have us under them, there won’t be amendments,” Sam said.</p><p>“Oh, nice, you’ve got the same reading comprehension as the kid. It’s like any other asset, weapon—”</p><p>“So, you’re saying Wanda and I are weapons?” I asked.</p><p>“Isn’t that why Doctor Jekyll and Hyde created you?”</p><p>“Fuck you, man,” I said getting up, turning back to look at the group. “Yeah, I’ve been someone’s weapon before. And I’m not doing it again, not for any government, any organization. No one fucking owns me. Not anymore.” I stormed out of the living room, my face red, afraid to turn back around and let them see the fact that I was seconds away from crying for some stupid reason.</p><p>“<em>No, let her go. Give her a few minutes,” </em>I heard Natasha. <em>“I’ll talk with her later. I’m going to find Steve.”</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Recruitment</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Willow trains with Natasha one more time before the spy heads to Vienna</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <ul>
<li>
<b>Words: </b>844</li>
<li>
<b>Characters: </b>Willow Wren, Natasha Romanoff</li>
<li>
<b>Timeline: </b>June 2016</li>
<li>
<b>Song: </b><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mXvg0UvI480">A New Recruit - Henry Jackman</a>
</li>
<li>
<b>A/N: </b><em>hi guys what’s up</em>
</li>
</ul><p>—————————————————————————–</p><p>“You’re not focusing,” Natasha said as I got knocked down again, my head slamming into the training mats and my wings absorbing the impact. “Up. Again.”</p><p>I sighed and got up, wincing as my abs burned from the workout the day before. It wasn’t even light out yet, but Natasha was leaving for the signing of the Accords that morning, and she never let me miss a day of training. “I know I can do it,” I said, frustrated.</p><p>“Prove it, then.”</p><p>I got back into the stance and we started again, me on defense, as I tried to fight off the next attack. I was still defaulting to HYDRA’s training, years of it etched into my muscle memory, always on the offense, whatever the cost. I wondered where Dr. Turner was now, if she or HYDRA would find out about the enhanced registration, if they—</p><p>
  <em>Slam!</em>
</p><p>I was knocked on my ass again, my legs kicked out from under me, my tailbone slamming into the blue mat. “Shit!”</p><p>Natasha sighed as she looked down at me; she hadn’t even broken a sweat. “Distracted. Again.”</p><p>“I know,” I muttered. “I know.” Through the window, the sun just began to peek over the trees, clearing the dew and fog that had settled on the grounds overnight. I laid back on the mat for a moment to catch my breath.</p><p>“You have to remove all emotions from the fight,” Natasha lectured. “None of it matters at that moment. Whatever you’re thinking about, I promise it’s not more important than staying alive.” She checked the time on the tablet sitting on the bench. “We have to call it here for today. Come on. I told Rhodey I would get inventory done before leaving.”</p><p>“Inventory for…?”</p><p>“Secretary Ross wants to know what we have stored in our arsenal.”</p><p><em>Of course he does. </em>I had to walk double-time just to keep up with her on the way to the warehouse, just a few steps behind. The Avengers Facility was still quiet at this time in the morning, Steve gone, Wanda and Rhodey asleep, Sam out running. Vision and Tony had set up in the workshop after Tony arrived, and something told me they were still working there this morning. We crossed through the main foyer and through the double doors outside, across the dewy grass. The air was already warming up, the hum of summer bugs already starting. <em>Summer. It’s summer now. I’ve been here since March.</em></p><p>“I don’t think I’ve ever seen our storage before,” I said as Natasha unlocked the door.</p><p>We started in the back of the warehouse, me reading labels off crates and counting the ones that matched, sometimes asking questions about what I was seeing, while Natasha took notes on the tablet. We worked mostly in silence though, our voices echoing off the metal containers.</p><p>“What are these?” I asked as Natasha opened one of the crates to examine what was inside. They were small disks, a little smaller than the palm of my hand.</p><p>“Micro EMP emitters,” Natasha said. “Press the button and they disable electronics within a five-foot radius. Useful for locks, weapons, things like that. Close that up?”</p><p>She handed me the lid and just before I put it back on and let it lock, I snuck my hand into the container and slipped one out against my palm, closing the container in the same motion, the locking mechanism covering any noise that my motion made. It was cold in my hand, heavier than I expected, and when Natasha turned to read a label, I slipped it into my pocket. <em>I gotta try one of these out.</em></p><p>“I’ll be back by Thursday night,” Natasha said as we finished up inventory and I waited outside as she locked up the warehouse. “I sent you tasks to get done while Steve and I are gone. If you need anything, you can ask Vision.” She paused for a moment to think. “Don’t do anything stupid.”</p><p>“I’m not going to do anything stupid,” I said. We had talked the night after the Accords had been presented to the Avengers. She hadn’t sugarcoated anything, but maybe I preferred it that way. <em>“This will change things. But you’re a big girl and you have to face these things head-on. Like an adult. And that means that we sometimes have to compromise.”</em></p><p>I think she thought she had convinced me, and I wished she had. I tried reaching out to the Lab Rats again. I did readings on the Sokovia Accords. Part of me felt I had to get out again. That afternoon, I secretly began to pack, just in case. <em>The real test is going to be how you plan to get out of here. There’s surveillance everywhere, someone’s always watching. And even if you get out, where would you go? They’ll search New York, Boston, anywhere you’ve ever known. You won’t be able to fly away fast enough.</em></p><p>I’d stick around a little longer, for now. No one was coming to take me yet.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. See You In A Bit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Willow, Wanda, and Vision find out about the bombing in Vienna</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <ul>
<li>
<b>Words</b>: 949</li>
<li>
<b>Characters</b>: Willow Wren, Vision, Wanda Maximoff</li>
<li>
<b>Timeline</b>: June 2016</li>
<li>
<b>Song</b>: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d4SCxVdTmD4">Celestial Bodies - Henry Jackman</a>
</li>
<li>
<b>A/N</b>: <em>i’m back lol it’s just that i’m doing nanowrimo this month so i’m currently dying but i’m going to start posting the stuff I already wrote</em>
</li>
</ul><p>—————————————————————————–</p><p>“You’ve got to stop moving,” Wanda said as she pulled the eyeliner pen away from my face and I cracked my eye open. “You keep scrunching your eye up every time I touch the pen to it.”</p><p>“Sorry!” I said. “It’s cold. I’m not used to the liquid one. I liked using the other one because I could smudge it.”</p><p>“Well, this will look much better,” Wanda said, pushing my eyelids closed again with a finger. “Don’t move!” After logging back into my Instagram account to try and contact my friends a few days ago, I showed Wanda some of my posts before everything happened. She was appalled at the amount of eyeliner I used and was determined to teach me how to do it better.</p><p>It was just me, her, and Vision in the lounge, Steve and Natasha already gone. No idea where Rhodey and Sam were. It was barely noon and since I had done the training Natasha left for me in the morning, we were goofing off now.</p><p>“Okay, open,” Wanda said, though she was still holding my chin, tilting my face to inspect her work. “Hmm, it could’ve been better. <em>Someone</em> kept squirming.”</p><p>“Let me see!” I said, and she turned on her front-facing camera so I could see. It was much neater than anything I had done, without any near for touchups or second tries. “Woah!” I exclaimed. “How did you do that?”</p><p>“Lots of practice.”</p><p>“Hmm,” said Vision, interrupting our conversation. “There was an incident in Vienna. At the signing.”</p><p>Wanda turned around. “What do you mean, there was an incident, Vis?”</p><p>“There was a bomb in a news van. Killed Wakanda’s King T’Chaka among about sixty others.”</p><p>“Holy shit,” I said, reading the news ticker on the television screen. “Wait, that was the signing there, right? Of the Accords? Where’s Natasha, is she okay—”</p><p>“There she is,” Wanda said, pointing out her red hair as the news camera panned over the aftermath. “She’s okay.” It felt like everything was happening so fast lately, all these events were too close together for me to process. <em>Lagos. Accords. Vienna.</em></p><p>I tried to put on a brave face. “Did they find who did it? Terrorists? ISIS?”</p><p>“No word yet,” Vision said.</p><p>“You okay?” Wanda asked turning to look at me, and I shifted my gaze to avoid eye contact.</p><p>“Fine, yeah. It’s just crazy.” <em>Why does something feel wrong? Why does something already feel wrong? </em>I pulled out my iPod and checked my friends’ Instagram profiles again. Nothing. Gone. User not found. “I’m gonna eat lunch.”</p><p>I walked over to the kitchen and opened the pantry to pull out a box of mac and cheese, <em>ol’ reliable</em>, also starting a pot of water boiling on one of the stovetop burners. <em>I hate feeling this on edge, like nothing is in my control again as if I’m waiting on everyone else to tell me what to do or give me the answers. It’s the right way. It’s supposed to be easier. I’m supposed to be able to trust these people. So why am I so worried?</em></p><p>My phone buzzed and I looked down to see the push notification, identifying a suspect at the scene of the bombing. My stomach dropped when I saw the identification. <em>HYDRA agent. Winter Soldier.</em></p><p>
  <em>It never ended, did it?</em>
</p><p>I finished the pasta in a daze, nearly burning my hand when I drained the boiling water, and when I finished mixing in the cheese, I realized I wasn’t even hungry anymore. I felt sick. <em>Did HYDRA send him? Do they still have programs like yours running? Is that why the Lab Rats disappeared?</em></p><p>And above all: <em>if your status as a former HYDRA asset was shaky before, they’ll come down on you now.</em></p><p>“You going to eat that?” Wanda asked, and I realized I had been staring down at the bowl for almost a minute. She was standing across the counter from me, scrolling through her phone.</p><p>“You can have some if you want,” I said. “I’m… not as hungry as I thought.”</p><p>“Really?” Wanda asked. She seemed concerned and then played it off. “Vision, who would have thought we’d have Willow sharing her food?” she said as she cracked some black pepper over the bowl I handed her. “Are you okay?” she asked. “Seriously, no joking.”</p><p>“Yeah,” I said, picking at one of the pasta shells with my spoon as I ate standing up at the counter. “Uh-huh.”</p><p>“That’s Captain Roger’s old friend on the news,” Vision said, interrupting us as he mused over the new information. “I wonder if he knows.”</p><p>“I can’t imagine what that must be like,” Wanda said quietly, before turning to me. “What are you worried about?” Wanda asked, and I realized I had forgotten she could read minds.</p><p>“It’s nothing,” I said.</p><p>“I know it’s not nothing.”</p><p>I sighed, plinking my spoon down in the bowl. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay? It’s just this stupid Accords stuff, and now this bombing and it’s HYDRA… I’m just worried, okay? I’m allowed to be worried about stuff.” I went back to eating in silence, my mind racing as I tried to figure out some sort of plan, all the while praying Wanda wasn’t still listening in. “I’m going to train for a bit,” I finally announced. “Need some air.”</p><p>“I think Vision is taking a go at dinner tonight,” Wanda said as I set my bowl into the dishwasher. “If you’re interested.” She looked back at Vision, who gave her a nod.</p><p>“I’ll think about it,” I said, walking to the door and stopping in the doorframe. “See you in a bit.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Revealed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Willow makes a rash decision</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <ul>
<li>
<b>Words</b>: 1111</li>
<li>
<b>Characters</b>: Willow Wren, Tony Stark</li>
<li>
<b>Timeline</b>: June 2016</li>
<li>
<b>Song</b>: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cVJf6KcnC58">Revealed - Henry Jackman</a>
</li>
<li>
<b>A/N</b>: <em>I swear I have a ton of chapters written, I’m just waiting until I hit certain checkpoints to post so I make sure contingency and everything is a thing</em>
</li>
</ul><p>—————————————————————————–</p><p>Even flying didn’t help me feel better, as I soared above the grounds of the New Avengers Facility and tried to stave off my nervous energy. <em>What I need to do is get over to Europe. I need to know what’s going on and I can’t wait here for them to come for me. HYDRA or the government. Except I have no way of getting there undetected and I need at least a day’s head start before anyone notices I’m gone.</em></p><p>
  <em>Because if I’m caught this time, I’ll really be fucked.</em>
</p><p>I knew I wasn’t thinking with my head, that my idea to leave the compound and try to go overseas would ruin any progress I had made in working with SHIELD to assure them I wasn’t a threat. It didn’t matter. The alternative was worse. <em>If any of the Lab Rats somehow got sucked into this, or if HYDRA’s planning something… I need to help. None of them know that part of HYDRA like I do.</em></p><p>I could almost hear Natasha’s voice in my head, lecturing me about not planning ahead, only looking towards the next step. <em>What will you do when you get to Europe? Are you ready to be a fugitive again? And what will you actually do in terms of HYDRA?</em></p><p>“I’ll find out what facility he came from,” I said to myself, my voice drowned out by the wind. “Try to get in contact with the Lab Rats again. Go from there.”</p><p>As I flew back over the compound, breaking over a cloud, I saw movement on the grass down below and narrowed my eyes as I tried to figure out who it was. <em>Tony? That’s the only person that could be.</em></p><p>I angled my wings and shot downward, wondering where he was going, until my gaze found the Quinjets on the other side of the grounds. As I got closer to the ground, I saw that Tony was on the phone, back to the hangar and at a few hundred feet, just high enough to stay unnoticed, I caught bits and pieces of his conversation.</p><p><em>“I’ll be there as soon as possible. Of course not. I already sent Rhodey over.</em>”</p><p>
  <em>Europe. He’s going over there to deal with this.</em>
</p><p>It was like a lightbulb went off in my head, and I shot towards the hangar, aiming for the Quinjet already on the tarmac, gangplank already lowered. <em>Still got it.</em></p><p>I was only wearing my training windbreaker, no change of clothes packed, no supplies, Nedward and Boxer Joe still in their enclosure in my room. <em>Wanda will take care of them. I’ll get supplies when I get there. I’ll be homeless again. I’ve done it before. </em>I had no memory of what it was like in Europe, even if my HYDRA files reported that I had been there before, and while I was nervous, I was also brimming with excitement.</p><p>My feet hit the tarmac and I jogged over to the jet as I dispelled the momentum, looking back to see Stark still on the phone, turned the opposite way. With a final sigh, I climbed up the gangplank, my stomach flip-flopping as I realized there was no going back from here. My heart hurt as I thought of everything I was leaving behind, not just the security of living at the compound, but the people, the rhythm. I realized that Marty’s flash drive was still in my room, along with my few possessions: the stuffed elephant, the pictures, the binoculars from Jessica. <em>I’ll have to leave those, too. I don’t have time to get those.</em></p><p>Inside the quinjet, I spied a row of storage cabinets and I hoisted myself up, climbing in and shutting the door, sealing myself in the dark. I pulled my legs and wings in close to my body and powered down the iPod touch still in my pocket so that my location wouldn’t be tracked. <em>Maybe I should ditch it outside. Do I have time before Tony gets on?</em></p><p>Just as I placed my hand on the cabinet door, I heard footsteps on the gangplank. “<em>Engage takeoff protocol,” </em>I heard Tony say, the words coming out like a sigh as he took a seat. <em>I forgot how much I hate tight spaces. And the dark. This is going to be a long flight.</em></p><p>I felt the ship rise, my ears popping, as the engines began to hum and the ship accelerated, I was pressed back against the side of the cabinet. I stuck out my legs to brace myself and within minutes they were aching from the constant tension. My wings didn’t seem to like our accommodations either and a steady soreness radiated out from my shoulder blades. <em>It’s just for a few hours. And then you’re home free.</em></p><p>Tony was quiet in the cockpit for a while and I wondered what he was thinking about. Eventually, he started talking to FRIDAY, asking for more details and updates on the bombing, and I caught that they had located Bucky over in Romania. <em>Located… that means they’re going to bring him in. Let’s see what else Tony knows.</em></p><p>I shut my eyes and tried not to think about the road ahead as Tony continued to talk to FRIDAY. The minutes passed, and soon it had been a few hours in the dark. I got comfortable the best I could and thought about sleeping, but I was too wired.</p><p>“<em>Arrival to Berlin in thirty minutes,</em>” FRIDAY announced, and I shook out my fatigue. It would be time to go soon.</p><p>
  <em>“FRIDAY, status report on the compound?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Readings all normal. No security changes. Ms. Maximoff is currently in the lounge with Vision.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“And the kid?”</em>
</p><p>I bolted up, nearly banging my head on the top of the cabinet.</p><p>
  <em>“Ms. Wren cannot be located in the compound.”</em>
</p><p><em>“Sorry, come again?” </em>Tony said, and I heard the pilot chair creak. <em>“Then where is she? Check security footage and scan the airspace.”</em></p><p>
  <em>“Ms. Wren was last seen at twelve-thirty-one local time on camera ninety-two.”</em>
</p><p><em>“Camera ninety-two…” </em>Tony muttered. “<em>That’s the one on the west side of the hangar?”</em></p><p>
  <em>“Yes.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Shit.”</em>
</p><p>The chair creaked again and there were footsteps against the metal flooring of the jet. I pressed myself against the back of the cabinet, praying that I wouldn’t be found. <em>I’m so close. Thirty minutes more. That’s all that I need. I can fly out of Berlin on my own. I can run. I can—</em></p><p>The cabinet door suddenly snapped open and I shielded my eyes from the light as Tony’s peeved face filled my field of vision.</p><p>“Hi,” I said.</p><p>“You’ve got to be kidding me.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Stepping Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tony catches Willow on his flight to Berlin</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <ul>
<li>Words: 658</li>
<li>Characters: Willow Wren, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff</li>
<li>Timeline: June 2016</li>
<li>Song: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s7KMBsU-u-g">Stepping Up - Henry Jackman</a>
</li>
<li>A/N: <em>sorry for the delays! I’ve been thinking about rewriting part 1 and part 2 and actually put effort into it instead of flying by the seat of my pants, so part of me just wants to scrap everything and rewrite but also I feel obligated to finish this arc? Idk. I’ll probably finish the arc and then complete it and begin the rewrite.</em>
</li>
</ul><p>—————————————————————————–</p><p>“You better have an unbelievably good explanation, kid,” Tony said as he pulled me out of the cabinet and into the cabin of the quinjet. I hit the ground and scrambled back until I could stand and confront him. “You had one job. One job,” he said, holding a finger up. “Stay at the compound. Don’t cause trouble. That’s it.”</p><p>“That’s two jobs,” I mumbled and instantly regretted it.</p><p>“No!” he yelled. “No more talking, you’re done! You understand that everyone is watching us right now? What are they going to say when I show up to Europe with an unregistered powered kid in tow? Huh? This is the <em>last </em>place where you should be right now.” He paused, resting his hand over his mouth as he thought. “Does Romanoff know you’re here?”</p><p>I shook my head.</p><p>“Do you want to be the one to tell her? Or me?” He turned back to the quinjet’s console and flipped a few switches, what I could assume were communications. “She’s not going to take it kindly either way.”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” I said. “I—I saw the news and when I heard HYDRA… I…”</p><p>“What, you decided to jet on over to see your buddies?”</p><p>“No!” I yelled back. “I’m not with them. I hate them.” I took a deep breath. “I’m worried that there are others like me, still with HYDRA. And if that’s true, I can’t sit at the compound and do nothing. I have to do something.”</p><p>“That’s not your job,” Tony snapped and then held up a finger to cut me off before I could respond. “Romanoff, come in?”</p><p>I shut my eyes tightly, feeling sick to my stomach as I heard her response crackle back over the comms. “Tony? What’s your ETA?”</p><p>“About twenty minutes,” Tony said. “But I seemed to have picked up a stowaway and I’ll need assistance at the landing site to deal with that… guess who?”</p><p>“Is it Willow?” I could hear the disappointment in her voice.</p><p>“Bingo,” Tony said. “She’s your kid, so, all yours when we land.”</p><p>“Thanks. I’ll let them know.” In my jacket pocket, I felt the micro EMP emitter I had taken from storage, and for a moment…</p><p><em>Tony doesn’t have his suit. You can fly. This ship goes down… </em>I shook my head, horrified with myself as I pushed the disk up under my ponytail, securely against my head in case I was searched.</p><p>“Look, you could let me go now,” I said. “I’ll… fly out or something— no one has to know…”</p><p>Tony sat back down in a huff and turned in the pilot’s chair to face me. “Wanda and Sam and all of them may have forgotten you’re in custody, but I haven’t. This isn’t negotiable. You were on lockdown at the compound. You ran away. These are the consequences.” He shook his head. “You know, I thought Romanoff and Cap were crazy moving you from SHIELD’s facility to ours. Maybe I was right. Tesseract or not, <em>you could move planets for all I care</em>, and I’d still say you should have stayed in their facility.”</p><p>“I know,” I muttered. “I know everyone thinks it. I know Rhodey doesn’t trust me or that Wanda always seems afraid that I’m moments from snapping. <em>I didn’t ask for this.</em>”</p><p>“I know,” Tony said, the edge disappearing a little. “And I’m sorry. But you’re… what… thirteen? So… you know.” He sniffed. “Stop being a pussy about it.” I glared at him, but I had nothing left to say, because it’s exactly what I’d always tell myself.</p><p>“We’re coming up to Berlin now,” Tony said. “Don’t try anything when we land; Romanoff already has police waiting to escort you. This is not a place where you want to mess around. You’ll be put into lockup until SHIELD picks you up to extradite you back to the United States.”</p><p>“And then what?”</p><p>“That’s not up to either of us.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Chapter 24</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Willow faces the consequences of running away</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <ul>
<li>
<b>Words</b>: 1610</li>
<li>
<b>Characters</b>: Willow Wren, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff</li>
<li>
<b>Timeline</b>: June 2016</li>
<li>
<b>Song</b>: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s7KMBsU-u-g">Stepping Up - Henry Jackman</a>
</li>
<li>
<b>A/N</b>: <em>hello hello</em>
</li>
</ul><p>—————————————————————————–</p><p>As soon as the quinjet landed, I felt my stomach clench up and as florescent light flooded in, I saw the armed policemen. I took a step back up the gangplank, but Tony pushed me forward.</p><p>“Keep your hands where we can see them,” said one of the police in heavily accented English. “No sudden movements.” I raised my hands above my head, palms out, looking up at the ceiling, wishing I could at least see the sky, at least have a chance of escape. I shouldn’t be here. We need to be stopping whatever HYDRA is planning. “All right,” the policeman said as soon as I got to the bottom of the gangplank. “On your knees. Keep your hands where they are.” As soon as my knees hit the ground, the police rushed in, and I felt the pinch of handcuffs as my hands were tugged away from my head. I felt hands patting down the back of my jacket, feeling the wings, discussing something amongst themselves before turning to Tony.</p><p>“Wings?”</p><p>“Those are them. As long as she can’t let them out, they won’t be a problem.”</p><p>“Any weapons that you know of?” one of them asked Tony as I was checked.</p><p>“The kid was the weapon,” Tony said.</p><p>The officers continued to talk in German, I heard the word Inhuman thrown around and without warning, something cold was snapped around my neck from the back and I panicked as it came to rest over my throat, the pressure just enough to be uncomfortable. “Hey, wait… no,” I said, my breaths getting shorter as my pulse picked up and I felt it beating in my neck. “What’s going on? Mr. Stark?” I tried to turn around to ask him, but I was being pulled off the ground and pushed towards one of the waiting vans. “Mr. Stark!” I called. “Where are we going? Where is Natasha? I’m sorry—”</p><p>I was made to sit in one of the seats, the police filling the seats around me and I tried to see Tony through the still-open door before it was pulled shut. The police around me exchanged nervous glances, their gloved hands tight around their weapons, the sounds of soldiers and more enforcement shuffling around outside in the hangar almost overwhelming, making me want to shut it out, but unable to.</p><p>I leaned back to rest my head on the seat, but the device around my neck prevented me from setting my head all the way back without my neck aching. My breaths were still rapid, almost gasping, I was lightheaded, overheated, the space around me dissolving into a blurry soup. “I don’t feel well,” I whispered as the van started up and we began to drive, leaving the underground hanger and out into the sunlight for only a moment before we descended into another tunnel, this one under a large building, the flashing blue lights of the van reflecting off the dark walls.</p><p>I shut my eyes, repeating the only word running through my head. Sumerkey. Sumerkey. Sumerkey.</p><p>When the van stopped again, the wait felt endless, just minutes of sitting in the dark, sweat trickling down the back of my neck, my limbs numb, my head somewhere else completely. The smell of the transport van was enough to nauseate me—something to do with whatever materials it was made out of—it was the same type that HYDRA used to use to transport us to missions.</p><p>What if they’re HYDRA? What if Tony was mistaken? Where are they taking me? I need to get out of here, now, as soon as possible.</p><p>The van door suddenly slid open and after a few of the police exited, I was allowed to climb out, finding myself in another hanger, this one swarming with law enforcement and military, more armored vehicles than I could count. I couldn’t understand anything that was being said, the voices just molding together into noise upon noise, so much—</p><p>“Willow!” I turned around to see Natasha exciting through glass doors across from us, with the letters GTAZ frosted onto them.</p><p>“Natasha,” I breathed, relief flooding through me. “Where is this? I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t want this to happen but HYDRA—”</p><p>“What is this?” Natasha demanded, ignoring me for a moment and gesturing at the device around my neck. “Is this really necessary?”</p><p>“It’s the protocol for any enhanced individuals in custody, ma’am,” one of the police said. “Especially if their powers are… unpredictable… as we’ve heard.”</p><p>“I’m going to kill Tony,” Natasha muttered, before turning to look at me. “And then you.” We started walking again, through the glass doors and into the building, down several long hallways before stopping in front of a door that opened to reveal a small room with a table, two chairs, and a bench built into the wall. Two of the walls were glass, looking into some sort of control room with screens monitoring surveillance cameras.</p><p>“We’ll have her held here until SHIELD arrives,” one of the guards said, finally unlocking my handcuffs and allowing me to stretch my arms and rotate out the tightness in my wrists.</p><p>“Could I talk to her for a moment?” Natasha asked. She looked pointedly at the guards still standing in the room. “Alone.”</p><p>“We’ll be outside.”</p><p>The door locked shut and Natasha looked me up and down before gesturing at one of the chairs. “Sit.”</p><p>I plopped down, staring down at the floor, at her shoes, not wanting to make eye contact. I knew I had fucked up. And Tony was right, this would look bad for all of them. I messed everything up. This is my fault.</p><p>Natasha walked over to the other chair, her arms still crossed as she sat and looked down at the metal table and pursed her lips. “Why did you come, Willow?” I could hear the exhaustion in her voice, but the bite had been dialed back, now carefully restrained. “I’m sure you already got the lecture from Tony.”</p><p>I sighed and tried not to cry, taking a few deep breaths before speaking. “Um… I saw the news, while I was back at the compound. They said HYDRA and mentioned the Winter Soldier… and I just panicked. I’m afraid there are others like him… like me… still out there. And to see it in action, and so publicly… I just had a bad feeling. Especially with the talk of registration. What if they came looking for me next? My friends… they’ve gone… offline recently… and I was afraid it was connected.”</p><p>Natasha nodded, but she didn’t say anything.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” I said. “It sounds stupid now.”</p><p>“No,” Natasha said. “It doesn’t sound stupid. What you did was stupid, but…” She thought for a moment. “You could have talked to me, or Wanda and Vision. With Barnes in custody, it’s a tense situation here. This is the last place I need you right now.”</p><p>“They got him?” I asked.</p><p>“He’s on his way here now. Along with Steve and Sam.” She looked away. “You weren’t the only one making things worse today.”</p><p>“What about HYDRA?” I asked. “Do they know who his handlers were? Or where he was based? Something doesn’t feel right. My friends are AWOL, Mr. Barnes is out of hiding… I couldn’t stay at the compound. Nat, what if they got me again?” I said, my voice cracking. “I have to help. I know more about their program that… than most people.”</p><p>“I’ll pass along what you’re saying,” Natasha said. “As soon as I get back upstairs. Whatever this is, we’ll get to the bottom of it. But my biggest concern for you is keeping you safe and away from all of this. Does that sound fair?”</p><p>“Okay,” I said.</p><p>“For full transparency, since I know that’s what you want, Secretary Ross already has other questions about your involvement with the Avengers, and Tony and I are doing our best to keep you out of the public eye in the meantime. But… it’s likely you might face more restrictions when you return to the United States. You were under SHIELD guardianship before, mostly off the record, but with the Accords it’s possible you’ll be deemed… well…”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Your abilities are far beyond what the government is used to. You don’t have any tech they can take away.”</p><p>“I am the weapon,” I said, echoing Tony, as Natasha nodded regretfully.</p><p>“Which means, technically, your abilities themselves would be considered government property… and by extension… well… it will just make things more complicated now. Same with Wanda. But we’re going to protect you.”</p><p>I frowned, scratching my neck underneath the device, wishing I could be as calm and collected as Natasha. “You know, HYDRA used to punish us for damaging organization property,” I said, shutting my eyes and thinking back to those moments, returning from the missions, the disappointment, even if the mission had been a success, the pain, the anger. “One time, it was because I got a really bad burn.” I touched the back of my neck, where it had been. “One time it was for breaking a few fingers.” When I held my hand out, to show her, my right ring finger was still crooked. “And one time,” I said, “it was because I got shot. I-I won’t go back to that ever again.”</p><p>She let out a deep breath before reaching out to squeeze my hand. “Willow… I…” She looked up at me. “I promise. You’ll never be treated like that ever again. I see you as you are. Steve does, too. We won’t let anything like that happen to you.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. ==announcement!==</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hey everyone! Thanks for reading up to here!</p><p>I started writing this story on a whim, mostly for fun as a warm-up exercise, and am so happy that people here have enjoyed it, despite the fact that the plot of part 1 and part 2 were made up on the fly hahaha. Good news and bad news. The bad news is that this story will no longer be updated, but the good news is that the reason for that is that I'm rewriting this story starting at part one, now that I have an idea of a plot and want to spend time editing and developing the story. I fell in love with this character of Willow more than I thought, and want to do this story justice and tell it well.</p><p>SO!</p><p>Keep an eye on my profile for the eventual start of "Bat Out Of Hell." I've already rewritten about 10k, with lots more in the pipeline, and am spending more time on worldbuilding and a consistent backstory that unfolds naturally. I'm waiting until I have a good amount written to start posting, so that updates can be regular and to cut down on plotholes and the need to retcon.</p><p>Thanks!</p><p>Emcon</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>